


Wildflower

by Icandigelvis



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Conversations, Future Fic, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Identity, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pro Volleyball Player Kageyama Tobio, Sex, Sport Politics, Trans Hinata Shouyou, Trans Male Character, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:21:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 87,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23133073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icandigelvis/pseuds/Icandigelvis
Summary: “Why do you have like… boobs?” Kageyama asked, eyebrows furrowed. Shoyo stared at him in silence.“Like, you… is that normal? Or do you have l-like, an illness?”Shoyo groaned, slapping both hands over his face in utter mortification. The plan to tell Kageyama seemed a lot more favorable now than what he’d apparently ended up doing; fucking flashing him in the top of the morning.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 181
Kudos: 567
Collections: Haikyuu!!, My Favorite Fics





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always found the trans!Hinata Shoyo headcanon interesting but I know gender dysphoria is a controversial topic. I'm one of those who will spend hours researching what I'm writing, not only out of interest but because I also try to aim for realistic characters and environments. And apparently Japan's laws weren't as progressive when it comes to trans rights as I thought. The right to change your legal gender is there but the qualifications are bs imo so we'll just ignore that lil detail shhh
> 
> Nonetheless, I still wanna give a heads up for those who might be a bit sensitive; I always strive for realism. What I mean is that things won't be sunshine and rainbows because they aren't in real life. Still, it's not an angst fest because Shoyo is... well, I-can-fucking-fly-Shoyo.
> 
> However, this is still fiction and the things Shoyo does might not count for someone else irl, and it’s definitely not a recommendation on how to do things! ...Just like I wouldn’t recommend going up to big ass chained up wolf creatures in the forest.  
> （’へ’）
> 
> _The title comes from an absolutely beautiful Beach House song._
> 
> That aside; I hope you enjoy the story! ♡

The syringe’s needle pushed against his skin for only a second before it pierced through, the nurse holding it steady before administering the hormone.

Shoyo kept his eyes on the wall to his left. He didn’t do too well with syringes and after an embarrassing fainting episode the first time he’d done this he realized just asking to lie down beforehand was the best approach. Especially considering the way he fell into the box containing a defibrillator on the wall, nearly breaking it.

On the wall in front of him was a frame containing a photograph of a field. The picture was in black and white but Shoyo imagined the green grass, how it would feel under his toes and how it would smell.

“And there we go, finished! Just like that,” he heard Sato hum, using a wipe to clean the puncture wound. Shoyo appreciated the nude band aid. He may or may not have stared at the colorful pokemon band aids in fear earlier. Sure, pokemons were awesome but Shoyo would love to not look like a child.

In actuality, however, it was because he didn’t want to draw attention to the wound.

10 weeks in between each shot. And after each Shoyo turned up to school with a wound in a suspiciously recurring location; his inner arm. Perhaps it truly wasn’t noticeable to others but he couldn’t stop the paranoia.

“You can stay for a minute or so again. So we make sure you don’t fall,” the nurse said and while Shoyo was a bit embarrassed by the reminder of the first time, he appreciated the words. He had never really been scared of needles before so another logical explanation could just be the nerves for when he was going to get his first shot. Then again Shoyo still felt it was better to be safe than sorry. He still had nightmares of falling into defibrillators and accidentally activating them, killing him with electricity like in the cartoons.

“So high school is coming up soon, right? I assume you’ve already decided where to go?” Sato asked as she sat down at her desk, her back to Shoyo. The walls were a soft yellow color and the floor the typical grey pattern, her space felt homey yet was still clean of clutter. Her office didn't smell like the rest of the hospital and Shoyo felt oddly comfortable in here.

He focused on his breathing, trying not to think about the point where the needle had punctured his vein- ‘ _don’t think about it, idiot!’_

“I’m going to Kurasuno High school,” Shoyo replied, closing his eyes while tying his fingers over his stomach, playing with his thumbs.

“Oh? I assume they have a volleyball team then?” she asked. Shoyo opened his eyes, turning to her. She turned in her chair, smiling at him.

Shoyo wasn’t here very often, only every 10 weeks after all, but she seemed to remember him nonetheless. He smiled back, scratching his arm a little awkwardly.

“Uh, yeah. They used to be really good- I mean I’m not sure about recently but I’m gonna work really hard! And they have this coah I really want to train under, too.”

“Well, that’s good,” she chuckled. “As I’ve said before I certainly envy your passion, Shoyo.”

***-***-***

The taller guy with black hair was a fucking asshole.

Apparently his name was Kageyama or something, Shoyo didn’t care. Even though he kinda already recognized him and totally knew his name and that he was good at volleyball, Shoyo didn’t care.

The inner conflict was immediate and an emotion Shoyo hated because while he wanted to play volleyball as best as he could, which depended on him getting along with his teammates… Kageyama was ultimately a fucking asshole.

So rival it was.

Their team captain was nice, albeit a little scary. The setter (not Kageasshole) was really friendly and welcoming. The other two new first years consisted of a tall stuck up nerd and a freckled boy who honestly just looked kind of lost.

After a slow but exciting first week Shoyo was also introduced to Tanaka and Nishinoya, both people with high spirits though not only in regards to the subject of volleyball. Asahi, the ace, gave Shoyo a serious case of starstruck. Last were Ennoshita, Kinoshita and Narita, all kind but obviously without the same sort of devotion Shoyo had to the sport.

Best of all was no one seemed to question that Shoyo always stayed behind to change alone, or turned up really early, already in his sports clothes. Or the times he brought his clothes to change in the bathroom because “Well I’m going to remove my pants anyway when I go to the toilet so it saves time and I can play volleyball faster!”

The tall blonde, Tsukishima, gave him a disgusted look while Nishinoya slapped Shoyo’s back, apparently impressed by the dedication. Shoyo instinctively twitched from the contact and turned around on reflex, placing his arms in front of his body in an awkward gesture. No one seemed to notice however, and Nishinoya only continued laughing, apparently not having noticed an extra seam under Shoyo’s shirt.

Then his eyes caught Kageyama seated on the bench with his chin in hand, deep in thought. Perhaps he was thinking over the changing clothes in the bathroom theory. Shoyo felt a laugh slip from his lips.

It turned out Kageyama wasn’t that good at things which didn’t have anything to do with volleyball. Sure, he was doing okay in math but other than that it seemed like volleyball took up a very large percentage of his brain mass. Or however that worked again, Shoyo wasn’t very good at biology.

***-***-***

While Shoyo had played volleyball at his last school too he had never been this engulfed in the sport. With proper training and matches here and there, time and even money spent on making the team better; Shoyo almost felt like he could fly.

Sure, there were a couple ups and downs, Kageyama was still an asshole for example, but Shoyo was truly happy. He most often forgot about other things because suddenly his life revolved around volleyball.

Shoyo turned 16 somewhere in the midst of his first year but all he remembered from June was the Summer Training Camp.

***-***-***

In August when school started again Shoyo was alone in the gym after the first day of regular practice. He promised to clean up and hurry home, Yamaguchi leaving last with a wave.

Shoyo threw a couple more serves, just because he could. He ran a lap with the cleaning mop after collecting all the balls in the basket, placing them in the storage closet.

Volleyball had a tendency to take over his mind and Shoyo forgot his paranoia or worries as he played. So as he entered the dressing room to change he didn’t care too much about hiding in the bathroom today. It took him, what, 3 seconds to change his shirt?

Shoyo was humming some tune he had heard from a movie, thinking about the words Ukai told him to remember, what lessons to memorize and work on. He knew his serve was still pretty bad but it was a case of prioritizing, and his spikes and back attacks were more important as of now.

Yet, as the door opened and Shoyo grabbed his shirt to hold in front of his chest the damage was already done.

Daichi stared at him, mostly in surprise from Shoyo’s shock, before he undoubtedly noticed the nude-colored tank-top thing Shoyo was wearing.

“Uh, hey Hinata. Why are you still here?” Daichi asked, the second spare key dangling from his hand.

Shoyo wanted to ask him to turn around but when Daichi turned to the shelf where his bag was left Shoyo quickly shoved his shirt on. He put his jacket on too for good measure, eyes still open wide as he watched the captain.

“Hinata?” Daichi asked, raising an eyebrow. Perhaps if he hadn’t reacted so intensely Daichi would’ve just brushed it off.

Shoyo felt the familiar feeling of his stomach turning, his throat feeling dry. As he threw his bag over his shoulder he held onto the strap tightly, his fingers probably white, trying everything to not throw up.

“Please,” he whispered, “P-please don’t tell anyone.”

Daichi threw his own bag he unmistakably had forgotten over his shoulder. “Do you have back problems or…?”

Shoyo stared at him, blinking.

“Y-uh, yes.”

They left the building together, the summer evening’s weather warm. It was almost dark outside, Shoyo staring at the fading orange of the departing sun while his heart beat quicker than it did during the most intense matches.

Daichi didn’t say anything else after a last “Goodbye” and Shoyo biked home faster than he had ever done, his legs shaking when he parked his bike at home.

His mother seemed to notice something was off but Shoyo insisted he just wanted to rest. How fucked up was it that his parents were used to this, he thought. That they were made aware by his nurse that their son would have episodes like this.

Shoyo didn’t fall asleep but he busied himself with his gaming console for an hour, successfully distracting himself to think of other things, even for just a minute or so.

When Shoyo finally made it down his mother reheated his portion and let him sit in front of the tv while he ate.

***-***-***

The wishing and praying Shoyo had done the evening before was seemingly useless. Daichi pulled him aside as soon as Shoyo arrived at school the following day. If only he hadn’t been early, then the captain wouldn’t have been able to grab Shoyo, not if class was starting.

But the nerves had woken him up when the sun rose, as if it was there to remind him of what happened yesterday, what it saw before it set.

Arriving half an hour early hadn’t seemed like such a shitty idea but now as he stood outside around the corner of a building with Daichi awkwardly trying to justify his actions; Shoyo wanted to sink through the ground.

“-and I think I know what it was. I checked with Takeda and while he confirmed your student ID said… well, male, he also told me it had been customized.”

Shoyo stared at the ground. The good thing about having a mother who worked as an administrator at another school was that she knew how administrative things worked. For instance every student ID was automatically processed through their birth dates and personal numbers, but if a child had been noted to have a protected identity their parents could alter the information given to the school.

Of course Shoyo didn’t have protected identity but it was just a box for his mom to cross with a click.

Shoyo Hinata was a male, born 1996 June 21st.

 _Shuuko_ Hinata had never even attended this school nor was she anyone Shoyo wanted anything to do with anymore. He would have to wait until he was 18 before he could lay her name to rest properly. To him she didn’t exist as more than a memory and a name on a piece of plastic.

Or at least, that’s how it normally was and how it had been for the last couple of years. When stuff like this happened it brought her back. It made Shoyo remember how much he hated her. She wasn’t him, had never really been and had no reason to exist at all.

When classes were over and almost all students gone for the day, Shoyo faced a trial.

Daichi, Ukai and Takeda were standing in the office Takeda had his desk in, the other teachers having left for the day. Shoyo at least appreciated keeping this conversation from the others.

“This is a tricky situation, Shoyo, and I know it’s also a sensitive topic so I’ll try to be respectful,” Takeda explained as he sat down, pushing up his glasses that seemed to slide down whenever he tilted his head.

“I know,” Shoyo said, forcing his arms to stay at his side and to not cross them. He had already caught a couple glances towards his flat chest, even though they were clearly trying to be discreet. It was pointless, Shoyo tried to persuade himself; he wore his binder every single time he left his house, no exceptions. They wouldn’t see anything.

“Okay, so… what I’m going to do is send an email, asking for the opinion of the principal. There’s nothing on this- on transexuality in the guidelines but _it is_ a rule to not let boys onto the girls team and vice versa.”

Shoyo nodded but didn’t reply. Once again he still felt sick to his stomach, wishing he could teleport home and hide in his bed for the rest of the day.

“I know you don’t consider yourself to be a girl, Shoyo, and I’m not going to tell you you are. But you’re _biologically_ one, yes?” Takeda asked.

Shoyo stared at the floor, frowning. He had to focus on his breathing; in and out.

He suddenly felt a nudge from an elbow, the color of Daichi’s jacket visible in the corner of his eyes.

“My student ID has my correct gender, which is a boy,” Shoyo started. “My personal ID says… F. I won’t be able to change it until I’m 18.”

“I see,” Takeda hummed, noting down something on his computer. Shoyo couldn’t read what it was because of the angle of his computer screen and looked back down at his feet again.

“Raise your head, kid,” Ukai scolded him from somewhere behind. Shoyo had to bite the inside of his cheeks to stay quiet and not rush out, raising his head but still avoiding eye contact with his teacher.

Neither of them had seen Shoyo like this. Usually he was jumping around the place in excess energy or he was muttering about Kageyama being stupid. Sometimes he was whining about difficult tests or he was oblivious to humming odd melodies. This silent, frightened Shoyo was someone completely else.

“But you take, uh, medication?” Takeda continued, ignoring Ukai’s words. Shoyo nodded.

Takeda waited but when Shoyo didn’t continue he sighed.

“Shoyo, I know this is frustrating but I need as much information as possible,” Takeda said, resting his face in his hand.

“It’s probably in your best interest to not piss him off,” Daichi hissed behind him.

Shoyo looked up to meet his teachers eyes again, hoping he could see the raw hatred Shoyo felt right now. But it wasn’t towards Takeda, it wasn’t even towards Daichi. He knew he couldn’t be mad at anyone but himself right now because he was the one who fucked up.

Shoyo faltered a bit when he realised how tired his teacher looked. Perhaps he’d had a long day at work.

“I’ve taken testosterone shots ever since I turned 15, every 3 months or so. My family and my friends know I’m a boy and it’s what they call me.”

Outside the building the unpredictable summer rain started back up, harshly tapping against the windows with an uneven rhythm. The office smelled like a mix of warm printer paper, dust and cleaning solution.

“I see. And you definitely don’t want to be on the other volleyball team, correct?”

Shoyo knew what he meant by ‘the other volleyball team’.

“Absolutely not. I’d hate it,” Shoyo replied, unable to hide his shudder.

“Okay, we’re done for now. Shoyo, I will contact you once I know more. Again, I don’t want you to harbor any bad feelings, I’m just doing the job I need to.”

Shoyo stiffly nodded. He could feel the familiar signs of when he felt like crying. Trying to keep it inside he once more pressed his nails into his palms as hard as he could.

“And just so you know, as a friend I hope you can stay on the team and that nothing changes. One of my childhood friends changed into a she and I don’t think of her any differently. It’s all the stuff when it comes to the sport teams and mechanics and rules of competing that things get complicated.”

“I… understand,” Shoyo replied, just wanting to get it over with. He tried not to think about what he wanted the most right now, which was his mother's warm hug. Because if he did he’d definitely start crying.

***-***-***

Shoyo didn’t go to school the next day. His mother didn’t blame him but she warned him it was only a one time thing. Perhaps it was her mother instinct kicking in, and the fact that Shoyo had spent a good half and hour crying in her lap yesterday. His father wasn’t home until late and Shoyo didn't want to talk about it again, so instead he just talked about volleyball and blamed his unenthusiasm on being tired.

Natsu didn’t seem to completely understand why her big brother was sad but she sat close to him on the couch while they watched tv, playing with his hands.

His day alone at home went by rather quickly since Shoyo spent the majority in bed, sleeping and sulking. Daichi didn’t text him nor did the coach. Shoyo imagined the two of them talking about him with voices of disgust and ridicule. Perhaps they even told the rest of the team. Perhaps they called Shoyo a ‘she’ now.

If he didn’t get to play on the team Shoyo didn’t know what to do. He had no fucking clue. He loved volleyball and it was the one thing that made him happiest in life. If they took that from him, what would he do? Play on the girl’s team?

Shoyo tried not to think about it, clutching to the small voice in his head that said it would be okay, that neither Daichi nor Ukai or Takeda would tell on him. All he had to do was wait and take it slow, one day at a time.

***-***-***

In the end it was all rather anticlimactic.

Apparently the school had a subclause in their guidelines for when an underage transgender student attended and while it wasn’t in too much depth it wouldn't change anything for Shoyo. Nothing at all. Apparently it helped that he was properly diagnosed with gender dysphoria by an actual psychologist and that he was already taking hormones. Takeda briefly explained that he heard the school sometimes had problems with kids who just wanted to joke around and change their sex on the student ID for fun.

Shoyo stared at him, mouth half opened. He hadn’t eaten any breakfast that morning, having prepared himself for the worst.

“But the principal also instructed me to tell you it’s a completely different matter if you start to compete professionally. I assume by then you’re 18 or 19 and you’ve probably already changed your ID and whatnot. But if you go into sports it’s not always as straightforward, okay?”

Shoyo felt like he could cry as he eagerly nodded to everything Takeda was saying. Daichi and Ukai weren't with them this time and the volleyball team hadn’t said anything odd nor acted any differently when Shoyo returned that day. Apparently no one had ratted him out.

Now it was just Shoyo and Takeda and a couple of teachers at lunch break in the office, busy with their own stuff.

“Thank you,” Shoyo heard himself whisper.

Takeda burst into laughter, waving his hands. “Truth be told I’ve never dealt with this before and I felt so bad the entirety of yesterday I barely got anything done. I’m glad it was solved quickly.”

And with that the trial of Shoyo Hinata was finished, the gavel slamming onto the table with an echo. It was over. He could stay on the volleyball team like nothing had happened.

Shoyo had tried, he really did, but with the alleviation that came with everything the tears suddenly wouldn’t stop coming, right then and there in front of a suddenly scrambling Takeda.

Anticlimactic? Yes, but what a fucking relief. Shoyo wouldn’t have it any other way.

***-***-***

Shoyo thought his team was the coolest.

They worked so incredibly hard, pushed each other to do better, to keep up and spike faster, jump higher and above all to work as a team. Even when they did really well someone was there to suddenly do better and in turn they motivated each other.

The feeling of the ball smashing against his palm, the sound echoing in the hall. The noises their shoes made as they ran, jumped and threw themselves to catch the ball. The ache and bruises of his forearms as he passed the ball, the floor burns on his legs when he caught a ball just last second.

Shoyo wanted to bask in it all, to stay in the moment, feel the adrenaline run through his legs as his vision changed from below to above the net as he jumped as high as he could.

He was in love. It was addicting. How could he not miss the feeling of when he spiked the ball to a successful point? Even a second later he longed to feel it again.

Despite it all they didn’t win the nationals.

They got third place and while it was frustrating Shoyo knew his team gave it their all. And it was a good spot, bronze was still a medal. He just had to focus on all the games they _did win_ on the way to the top.

As the third years were getting ready for university Shoyo wished he could rewind time and play with them again, just one last game.

Nevertheless time passed like it always did and suddenly awkward first years greeted them in the gym, eyes wide in awe since they’d learned Kurasuno earned bronze in the nationals.

***-***-***

Maybe Kageyama wasn’t as much of a ‘fucking asshole’ as Shoyo originally thought. Or at least he wasn’t one so much now.

He was still a stuck up idiot with only love for volleyball, but he somehow grew on Shoyo when he learned how he worked. You just had to read the Kageyama manual to understand him.

Yet Shoyo wasn’t sure what he was allowed to think of Kageyama as. Was he a friend? Shoyo would like to think so. They might not agree on everything and their arguments were usually very passionate, for a lack of a better word.

They didn’t do much outside of practice aside from the occasional study session or so. Shoyo had been over at Kageyama’s a handful of times to watch recordings of volleyball games but it never went further than that. They didn’t go into town for ice cream like Shoyo would sometimes do with the two third years, Nishinoya always insisting on the same place. Then again when they asked Kageyama to join he mostly claimed he was busy practicing or studying.

The World Championships were about to start airing next week and Shoyo had absently suggested they could watch it together. To his surprise Kageyama had agreed.

“I’m gonna livestream it when it starts on Friday,” he replied while the two sat at lunch.

Shoyo spent the rest of the week in anticipation for the games, but also in worry for awkward situations. He would have to spend the night at Kageyama’s since the matches aired well into the night. They would continue the following Saturday and Kageyama had suggested they could just continue then.

Last time Shoyo came along to the training camp he had slept in his binder in fear of anyone noticing. He had a tendency to move around in his bed after all. He had at least tried to lessen the pressure by keeping it on the outer button to loosen it slightly. The ache in his ribs the following day was awful and Shoyo had gotten a thorough scolding by his mother when he got home.

Similarly Shoyo knew Daichi would’ve been disappointed in him. After Daichi found out, back when he was still attending Kurasuno, he made sure Shoyo took care of his body properly at their collective sleepovers at away matches and such. He was a little awkward about it but he usually gave Shoyo a corner space or made sure he had an extra blanket or so. More than once he covered for Shoyo when he needed to head to the bathroom early in the morning to put his binder back on.

Shoyo also knew he was fortunate to be in a good body shape, which admittedly was quite easy for him considering he regularly worked out, added to his frequent running. This had always caused him to have a small chest, even before he started taking hormones, and while Shoyo despised the small lumps he saw in the mirror he knew he could cover up okay if he wore a thick, baggy shirt and held something in front of himself.

Still, as Shoyo prepared to have a sleepover, maybe even two nights in a row at Kageyama’s, his nerves were getting to him.

When Friday arrived Shoyo packed his sports bag with additional items such as his toothbrush, a thick shirt to sleep in and clothes for two days. He had tried to convince himself he wouldn’t sleep in his binder and made a half-assed promise to his mother about the same thing. Even with all that Shoyo still added a package of painkillers, just in case he couldn’t keep his own word.

Then again, with how inattentive Kageyama was to anything that wasn’t volleyball maybe Shoyo would be okay. As long as he got up before the taller boy in the mornings he should be fine.

Shoyo was nervous but he also wanted to do this. He didn’t want to constantly be stopped to do things like this.

He still didn’t know what he wanted to do for his future but he would work and save up. He knew approximately what the top surgery would cost and that was his next priority.

Kageyama’s house wasn’t too far from the school, at least half the distance Shoyo had to bike every morning. Again, Shoyo had been at his place a handful of times before and while he never asked he suspected Kageyama didn’t have a father, or at least no one that was around a lot. There were no family photos in their house and all shoes and outerwear Shoyo could spot seemed to belong to either Kageyama or his mother. Shoyo didn’t mean to snoop but he couldn't help being curious.

“I’m home,” Kageyama yelled as they entered inside, leaning on his knees to catch his breath. Shoyo felt a little guilty because it was definitely his idea to race the rest of the way from school to Kageyama’s house on their bike. Shoyo knew he was quick on his bike since he went such long distances almost daily, and just as expected he won. Not by much, but Shoyo’s bike was in the driveway a good couple of seconds before Kageyama.

Kageyama’s mother appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, waving a wooden spoon in the air.

“Welcome home. Nice to see you again, Hinata,” she greeted. Her resemblance to Kageyama was eerily similar. She was a thin woman, black hair straight and almost always in a ponytail. While she was a lot shorter than Kageyama, in fact about Shoyo’s height, her face shape was similar to his. But most of all their eyes were identical.

“The championships are starting soon so we’ll be in my room,” Kageyama explained with such poorly hidden excitement Shoyo laughed out loud. Last time he checked it was more than half an hour until they started but he wasn’t going to argue in front of his friend’s mother.

_Friend._

“I know, I know,” she said.

Huh, it didn’t feel that weird after all.

In the end the two sat plastered at Kageyama’s TV for the rest of the evening. Kageyama had set up the live stream on his laptop and used an HDMI cable to connect to his TV with a bigger screen. Shoyo’s futon was already prepared on the floor, courtesy of Kageyama’s mother, and they both sat on it, leaning against Kageyama’s bed.

When the second commercial break started they both dashed downstairs to grab dinner, Shoyo thankful they were allowed to bring it back upstairs. He wasn’t sure his mother would’ve let him eat in his bedroom.

Kageyama’s mother was sitting at the desk in the living room, a makeshift office, glasses on her nose as she worked on her computer. She smiled at them when they appeared but was clearly busy in a voice call of some sort.

“I don’t think Italy is as strong this year,” Kageyama hummed, sipping on a cola.

“Mhm, because Filippo Lanza isn’t playing?” Shoyo asked, watching a slow motion replay of the spike one of the polish players managed to make.

“His block is 330cm,” Kageyama nodded.

“Whoah, do you know how tall he is?”

“I think just under 2m, but I’m not sure. I just remember 330.”

When the games finished Kageyama asked Shoyo what he wanted to do. It was dark outside but a little too early to just go to sleep. If it hadn’t been raining Shoyo would’ve suggested going out to toss some balls.

The first instinctual reply would be to watch some other plays on youtube or perhaps a sports commentary on the World Champions this far. Instead Shoyo asked if Kageyama wanted to see a movie.

“It’s like a palate cleanser,” Shoyo supplied.

“Isn’t it called a palette cleanser? Like the thing you paint on?” Kageyama asked.

Shoyo scratched his chin. “Ah maybe… Whatever! When you consume too much volleyball you might forget stuff. You need to let your body process the information, you know.”

Ukai had told them this before so it wasn’t news to Kageyama. Yet his quick compliance surprised Shoyo.

“Sure. What do you want to watch?”

Eventually they got through two of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. Kageyama had suggested watching them in English with the subtitles instead of the dub, another tip from their English teacher. In the end Shoyo found that he actually learned a word or two that way and he always appreciated the mouths moving with the correct sounds.

Now he knew how to say ‘parley’ in English, for whenever he’d need that.

***-***-***

The trouble came the next morning as the sun rose.

Perhaps it was the excitement over the championships, perhaps it was the two additional movies or the marathon on bike home. Maybe it was just Shoyo’s nerves about the sleepover.

Either way Shoyo was exhausted.

The futon was also really comfortable since it was quite soft and somehow Kageyama’s room didn’t have that unfamiliar smell the faraway gyms would sometimes have when they slept away from home at tournaments and practice plays.

Whatever it was or all things combined; Shoyo slept like a rock.

When he opened his eyes he was met with a wide eyed stare.

Still half asleep Shoyo rolled over with a confused groan, searching for his phone. Kageyama’s room had some seriously good blinds because it was still almost dark inside while the sun had risen a long time ago.

“What?” Shoyo asked, looking back up at Kageyama who was still sat on his bed. As Shoyo slowly woke up he realized Kageyama was wearing his tracksuit, having most likely ran his morning jog already.

The setter awkwardly averted his eyes, looking at his phone in his hand.

Grabbing the sheets Shoyo tugged them up over himself, starting to realize Kageyama might’ve seen something even with the thick shirt Shoyo was wearing.

“Why do you have like… boobs?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed.

Shoyo stared at him in silence.

Kageyama stared back.

“... What?” Shoyo asked, even though he knew what Kageyama asked. He raised his arms above the blanket to slap both hands over his face.

“Like, you… is that normal? Or do you have l-like, an illness?”

Shoyo wanted to scream into his hands. Instead he spent a couple seconds trying to collect himself.

“How did you see my chest?” Shoyo asked, voice muffled by his hands. He peeked at Kageyama through his fingers.

“You went to sleep in that thick sweatshirt or whatever yesterday. I told you you’d be too warm but you were like _‘whatever’_. When I woke up you had kicked off the blanket and shoved your shirt up- wait, is this why you don’t change with us in the locker room?” Kageyama interrupted himself to ask, looking like he just had a revelation.

Shoyo removed his hands, slapping them down on the sheets. He stared up at the ceiling in utter mortification. The plan to tell Kageyama seemed a lot more lucrative now than what he’d apprently ended up doing; fucking flashing him in the top of the morning.

“Yes,” he grudgingly confessed.

“Ah,” Kageyama said, still looking deep in thought. His brows furrowed once more as he placed his head in his hand.

“But is it like dangerous or just something you can live with?” he carefully asked and Shoyo didn’t know if he should cry or laugh at the same time.

“Kageyama,” he groaned, closing his eyes once again. Perhaps he could fall back asleep and the night would rewind.

“What? I-I’m just- sorry for worrying, idiot Hinata,” Kageyama barked, Shoyo opening his eyes to watch him stomp over to the wardrobe. If the situation had been otherwise Shoyo would’ve laughed at his almost monochrome wardrobe of shirts in almost only black and white.

“It’s not a- it’s not two tumors, you dummy,” Shoyo explained as he sat up, making sure his shirt was covering him properly. He sat back against the edge of Kageyama’s bed, bringing his knees up with the blanket as well, putting as many things as possible between his chest and Kageyama’s large eyes. Not that it really mattered now, he supposed.

“Then what is it? It’s not going to interfere with practice, right?” Kageyama said, shrugging out of his jacket and shirt. Shoyo stared at him, a little embarrassed Kageyama was taking this moment to strip.

When he was down to just his pants he dug around his closet for clothes to wear, probably planning to bring them to the bathroom if he was going to shower.

“I… okay, no, look. First off I sorta wanted to tell you because I felt we were probably close enough that I prob-… hopefully could? But you discovered on your own. And uh, Daichi, coach and Takeda are the only ones who know otherwise. Apart from my family, of course.”

“Okay?” he asked as he shut his wardrobe door, holding his clothes in his hands.

“And I, you know. The thing with me is that I kinda, I guess, wish I looked more like… like you, there,” Shoyo awkwardly gestured to his own chest, still hidden behind the blanket, his knees and thick sweater.

“... so it’s like a body… mutation?” Kageyama finally asked, apparently still confused.

Shoyo stared at him with his mouth open. The earlier theory that Kageyama would be too much of a moron to understand? Yeah.

“Kageyama, I was born in the wrong body,” Shoyo spelled it out for him, gesturing with his hands at nothing.

The setter just blinked, face in it’s usual scowl.

“... what? What do you mean? Do you want a normal body?” he asked, clearly getting defensive.

“I-holy fuckballs,” Shoyo said to himself. “Alright, promise me this. You won't treat me differently, right? If I tell you? And no, it doesn’t prevent me from playing volleyball or whatever.”

Then again that last part may or may not be a lie but Shoyo wasn’t about to have a hypothetical discussion about trangenders rights when it came to competitive sports.

“Yes? I don’t care if it doesn't interfere with volleyball,” Kageyama grunted, looking like he wanted the discussion to be over already.

Shoyo collected himself and spoke slowly, making sure Kageyama could understand each word.

“So; I was born in the wrong body which means that I’m a boy… but I wasn’t born in a male’s body.”

Shoyo could tell when the penny finally dropped, when Kageyama put two and two together.

“O-oh… huh?”

“I… I don’t usually tell people because I don’t like to think nor talk about it, and it doesn’t exactly bring up good memories. Daichi saw me changing clothes once and felt compelled to tell Takeda who told Ukai I guess. It’s okay for me to play on the team since I am a boy, I just… I’m just not like you… everywhere.”

“So you were- you’re a girl?” Kageyama asked, frowning.

Shoyo felt his stomach turn at the words, clenching his teeth together.

“I am not a girl and don’t you dare fucking call me that,” he hissed, feeling the sheer rage dance under his skin, overtaking the fear. The agitation grew inside and Shoyo could watch as the familiar anger in Kageyama’s face appeared, similar to right before he was about to argue Shoyo was being a dumbass.

Just for it to be gone a second later, a sour but pensive expression in its place.

“S- I’m sorry. You’re a boy,” Kageyama corrected himself, “… but you were a… that thing. When you were born… ?”

Kageyama was actually trying, Shoyo realized. He was a little awkward and certainly embodying the definition of uneducated on the matter.

But he had apologized. Holy shit.

“I uh yeah,” Shoyo awkwardly replied, the rage disappearing as he realized Kageyama was at least attempting to understand.

Then the redness grew up Kageyama’s chest and neck and even in the dark Shoyo could see it.

“I-eh-uh I-I’m sorry for looking. I didn’t think-”

“Oh, It’s f-fine. It’s kinda my fault, I guess,” Shoyo quickly waved.

The two looked at each other in silence for a good couple of seconds, Shoyo deflating a bit into his own shoulders. Now it was just awkward.

“I’m gonna shower,” Kageyama announced before fleeing from the room.

Shoyo would say it went okay in the end. It was awkward and pretty horrible, for both of them. Perhaps that’s why it didn’t feel as bad afterwards. They both had to sort of suffer, Shoyo for being outed and Kageyama for being, well, a dumbass.

Perhaps it was a bit malicious to think back to Kageyama’s embarrassment when he finally realized what Shoyo was trying to say, but it made Shoyo snicker into the blanket.

When Kageyama returned Shoyo had changed into his daily clothes and he couldn’t help but to laugh out loud when Kageyama did a double take.

“But now you-!” Kageyama exclaimed, hair still wet from his shower, the towel around his neck catching most of the drops.

“First off, I forgot to ask you to promise not to tell anyone,” Shoyo started, holding up his little finger.

Kageyama was still clearly but inelegantly trying to fathom how Shoyo’s chest was suddenly flat as a board again while also not gawking at him, because even Kageyama had to know it was rude to stare.

“I, yeah sure, dummy,” he promised, reaching down to tug on Shoyo’s finger with his. He then busied himself with rolling up the blinds, Shoyo having left them alone in fear he’d accidentally break something. He wasn’t exactly called Kurasuno’s Clumsy without reason.

“It’s called a binder,” Shoyo explained, busying himself with his phone. “I wear it all the time when I’m outside of my home. But it’s bad to sleep with it because your ribs can get, like, squished… and stuff.”

“But you said it doesn’t affect your playing,” Kageyama pointed out, once again looking angry.

Shoyo rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t. I just can’t wear it to sleep. At daytime it doesn’t bother me at all, in fact I feel naked without it.”

Kageyama seemed to think over the reply, still trying but failing to not ogle. “... Can I see?”

“What?” Shoyo exclaimed, holding his arms around himself, “Absolutely not!”

“I didn’t mean like in a weird way!” Kageyama yelled, his voice cracking. “I didn’t mean your b-boobs, I meant the bind-thing, idiot Hinata!”

“I prefer chest, please,” Shoyo hissed, throwing his pillow at him.

“I just meant like the bind- what it looks like- idiot!” Kageyama grumbled, catching the pillow.

“Ah, you’re…” Shoyo trailed off, glaring at him. With a humpf he carefully pulled up his shirt to reveal a bit of the fabric under his arm, the color a nude very similar to his skin tone.

“It’s just like a tank top,” Shoyo mumbled.

“I see,” Kageyama reply, wearing a pout probably mirroring Shoyo’s.

“...Well whatever. Let’s go eat breakfast. The matches will start again at 11,” Kageyama said, exiting his room.

Shoyo scrambled to his feet and followed right behind, almost slipping on the stairs.

Down in the kitchen there was a note on the table from Kageyama’s mom, saying she had to run in for work and would be home before dinner. Shoyo tried to discreetly inspect Kageyama’s reaction but the setter just shrugged and went straight for the milk. Shoyo scolded him as he drank right from the carton.

“What? Mom doesn’t drink milk, like ever,” Kageyama argued, defending himself but fumbling a bit as he put down the carton.

“Yeah, well, I’m here as your guest and I want cereal too.”

Kageyama muttered something and Shoyo sat down by the table, swinging his legs from the tall chairs. It was some sort of bar table they had, wondering why Kageyama’s mother had decided to buy it instead of a kotatsu.

A bowl and spoon soon got placed in front of him, Shoyo grinning even while Kageyama looked a bit displeased about having to fetch everything for him. He sat down opposite Shoyo with his own bowl, Shoyo gasping in shock as Kageyama poured his milk first instead of his cereal.

Thus ensued the soggy vs dry cereal debate.

“By the way, uh… Please don’t think of me or treat me any differently,” Shoyo requested as they were back in Kageyama’s room, the first match about to start.

Kageyama looked at Shoyo for a moment before he snorted.

“I won’t,” he promised. “You’re still an idiot.”

***-***-***

Sometimes Shoyo wore a tank top underneath his shirt. At matches and when they were away he almost always did. If he got a question about it he just shrugged it off as being a little cold.

When Shoyo changed with the rest of his team properly for the first time, a year late in fact, no one even looked his way. Shoyo was usually with them in the changing room after all, only he was usually done before they arrived. He was fidgeting a little to make sure his tank top stayed in place but in the two seconds it took for him to change into his volleyball shirt no one had time to even glance his way.

Tsukishima and Enoshita were discussing a teacher they both didn’t like and in the corner of their locker room Shoyo felt full of new resolution, pressing his lips together to not grin like a fool.

Kageyama raised his eyebrows at his face but didn’t say anything.

Shoyo felt like he could conquer the world.

***-***-***

In addition to the Volleyball Winter League matches came, naturally, winter.

Shoyo didn’t mind the snow as much as the others on the team. Sure, biking was either a hassle or impossible, but the landscape around December and January was usually one of serenity. After a tough practice session Shoyo enjoyed the cold air greeting him outside. Christmas and New Years were always a blast too.

Other than that winter was mostly useless, he could agree. It was dark, cold and long.

Kageyama didn’t treat Shoyo any differently, just like he had promised. But he was admittedly (and/or arguably) still human and he seemed to sometimes randomly remember the secret Shoyo had told him.

Shoyo had sort of expected it, knew it was kind of inevitable, especially with someone so straightforward and crass as Kageyama.

He didn’t inappropriately stare a lot, it wasn’t that. But he was instead suddenly cautious of touching Shoyo. In the spur of the moment he still pushed and kicked him when he messed up or fooled around, but when they accidentally bumped into each other on the court he would once again do that freeze thing that made him look like a surprised cat with it’s hairs standing on end.

When Shoyo got a hard slap on the ass from Nishinoya mid practice Kageyama looked scandalized, something Shoyo was pretty sure he hadn’t bothered to comment on before. Shoyo didn’t care, he just slapped Nishinoya back when he got the chance.

This was the sort of thing he didn’t want to happen though; for Kageyama to look at him differently. Again, he was probably trying hard to not think about it but Shoyo supposed Kageyama had his own growing up to do.

It started with the mentions of ‘girls’.

Sugawara had been the one to get whipped up by his girlfriend at the end of his third year, and now Nishinoya and Tanaka were more than ever talkative about such subjects. Tanaka constantly went on about girls, which wasn’t new, but now that he had gained some experience the conversations matured. He would bring up sex and girls a lot and sentences like _‘nice tits’_ and _‘the best pussy’_ uttered every now and then.

Ennoshita had once told the boys to chill with the locker room talk but it still went on.

“She’s on my ass all the freaking time,” Tanaka exclaimed, typing away on his phone. He sat on the floor while Nishinoya, Kageyama and Yamaguchi were still getting ready to leave.

“Didn’t you say you liked Yasui though?” Shoyo asked, seated beside him, having also already changed into his everyday clothes.

“Yeah, Yasui is so pretty,” Tanaka trailed off.

“He’s got an actual crush on her, believe it or not,” Nishinoya snorted, a familiar snickering coming from Tsukishima.

“Yeah, so what? You've got a girlfriend too, glasses,” Tanaka grunted. One of the first years, a lanky boy named Kaito, stared in awe at the image on Tanaka’s phone.

“Speaking of I’m out of here,” Tsukishima replied as he left, lazily waving on his way out.

“But the other girl asked you to meet, what are you gonna do?” Kaito asked, pointing at the screen. The girl had black long hair and a colorful jacket, half-hanging over Tanaka’s shoulder in the picture. As far as Shoyo knew they only had a physical relationship and the Yasui girl was one of Tanaka’s actual friends. He talked about her quite a lot but Shoyo hadn’t met her yet.

“She’s a beauty and a tiger in bed, but it feels wrong to say yes when I’m trying to get with Yasui,” Tanaka admitted, Shoyo impressed with his honesty.

“A tiger?” Kaito asked and Shoyo heard both Yamaguchi and Ennoshita groan in unison.

“Don’t encourage him,” Ennoshita whined.

“Says the virgin,” Tanaka chuckled. “So, she’s really wild in bed and she loves to take charge. And she’s always, _always_ wet. Even if we’re watching a movie she’ll start getting her hands all over my dick-”

“Alright, I’m out. I’m not the team captain,” Ennoshita announced. The actual captain, Yamaguchi, followed right behind nonetheless.

It was at that point Shoyo realized Kageyama was staring at him again. To make matters even worse his cheeks were flushed red.

Shoyo showed his displeasure with his staring but didn’t say anything, instead continued to listen to Tanaka’s story.

A similar thing happened another time when Yachi accidentally heard one of those scandalous conversations. Kageyama’s eyes instantly finding Shoyo.

 _‘We’re not the same,’_ Shoyo wanted to say to him, to point at Yachi and himself. _‘And I might not have a dick but I’m not inept, idiot. I can talk about sex too, even if some things don’t exactly correspond to me.’_

It was at the mention of that word, of ‘pussy’, ‘vagina’ or even ‘cunt’. Everytime he seemed to either glance very indiscreetly at Shoyo or instead flush at the words which he’d never done before.

When Shoyo stayed behind one evening, alone with Kageyama he paused in his ball throwing for a second, ready to confront him. Shoyo had realized that keeping his issues with the setter’s reaction silent wouldn’t help either of them.

“Hey, Kageyama,” Shoyo started. “About the locker room talk…”

To his surprise Kageyama seemed to hang his head at the words. Shoyo raised an eyebrow, closing his mouth.

“Do you want me to shut them up?”

Shoyo blinked.

“Uh, no, that’s fine. It’s bound to happen- wait, what? No? I just- Can you stop staring at me whenever someone mentions sex or girls?”

Kageyama didn’t seem to have even considered that a possibility.

“I don’t stare, idiot,” he grumbled.

Shoyo rolled his eyes. “Okay, well please don’t, anyway.”

He threw a couple more shots to the other but realized Kageyama was still deep in thought, his attention not quite there.

“You’re unfocused,” Shoyo pointed out after a spike. He hit them all and Kageyama’s tosses were never really quite bad. But his attention was clearly elsewhere.

“Doesn’t it bother you? When they speak like that?” Kageyama asked.

“No, not really,” Shoyo replied, spinning the ball in his hands. “It used to, at first, but I know they don’t mean anything rude. Girls shit talk boys too, just like how we talk behind their backs. It’s just… kinda the way it is. Group pressure to sound cool and all that.”

Kageyama seemed to contemplate if for a second. Shoyo sighed.

“And I’m _not_ a girl so it-”

“I didn’t say that,” Kageyama interrupted him.

“No, but you thought about it,” Shoyo said, pointing at his face. He then spun the ball once before throwing it to the setter to toss, starting his sprint forwards.

“No I didn’t,” Kageyama denied, catching the ball instead of setting it for him. Shoyo came to a stop, face sour as he glared at him for interrupting his spike.

“Then what did you think about? You seriously stare at me anytime anyone mentions pussy.”

Kageyama instantly got the scandalized expression again. He seemed to catch himself a moment later, slapping the ball onto the floor to bounce it.

“Do you want a girlfriend too?”

It certainly wasn’t the question Shoyo had expected.

“I, uh, I don’t know,” he mumbled, shrugging.

Kageyama slowly nodded before he seemed to accept the answer. Then he got into position, gesturing for Shoyo to throw him a ball.

He still felt like a couple of things were left unsaid but when he spiked a couple really good tosses he let himself forget about it for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pour the milk first, fight me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know when you reach 100+ pages in google docs and everything lags to shit that _it's time to stop_
> 
> also, this is basically just porn

Shoyo had his first taste of alcohol the first day of June.

The spring tournaments were just finished and the relief that came with victory had never felt so good. Shoyo was still reveling in the glory, ever so often recalling the moments his hand smashed against the ball. He could still feel his palm throbbing from it, the sound echoing in his ears.

“Didn’t you say you had some female friends from your last school, Shoyo?” Nishinoya asked with a suggestive voice, appearing in front of his face. “Are you still in contact with them?”

“Uh, no not really,” Shoyo shook his head.

“Yes! Yasui and her friends are on the way though,” Tanaka exclaimed, holding up his phone in victory.

They were seated on the floor of the libero’s living room, his grandfather apparently away for the weekend. It was the first time Shoyo visited Nishinoya for the whole year of knowing him. They usually hung out after school at Ukaii’s or at the gymnasium after all. Nishinoya never really talked about his family much, so no one asked.

The apartment was located in the center of the city but the drawback was the size. The living room and kitchen was one single big space while the two bedrooms were tiny.

After the finals Kurasuno had celebrated with the old third years, now university students, Daichi, Suga and Asahi. Tsukishima and Ennochita had tagged along after the match too but left when they finished. Shoyo had some suspicions that Sugawara knew what Nishinoya had up his sleeve for the after party, at least regarding the beers he had gotten his hands on. Yet he didn’t stop them with more than a stern warning to take it easy.

“Nah, they got drunk in high school too,” Tanaka laughed, seated opposite of Shoyo. “It’s why Suga didn’t stop us, because he knows it’s inevitable.”

When Tanaka had asked earlier if Shoyo had ever had alcohol before he lied and said yes, wishing he had copied Kageyama who just said ‘no’ with a straight face. The beer didn’t taste good at all. The commercials always made it seem so sweet and the talk about beer being the best was a straight up lie in Shoyo’s opinion. Perhaps the idea was overhyped or he himself just didn’t enjoy it, considering the beer Nishinoya had gotten his hands on was apparently supposed to be a bit sweeter than regular. To Shoyo it just tasted bitter.

Kageyama didn’t seem to mind the taste of beer beside him. Shoyo glanced at him and his can, wondering if the setter was feigning his approval.

A second later the doorbell rang and Nishinoya sprinted to his feet. Shoyo heard new voices enter the apartment as three girls entered, one of them holding up a plastic bag in greeting, the contents inside definitely more alcohol bottles clinking together.

“Hello! Sorry we’re late,” she waved while trying to kick off her shoes.

“Ahh, I don’t know, Yasui. Better make up for it,” one of Tanaka’s friends, Mark, exclaimed, scooting over to make room for the girls. Shoyo and Kageyama got pushed closer together while Mark cleaned off the table. Tanaka’s other friend, Matsuo or Matsuno or something, Shoyo couldn’t recall, was mostly quiet. He scooted over to take Nishinoya’s earlier place, now sitting beside Shoyo, probably in fear of the girls.

Shoyo had to admit, Yasui was very pretty. From what Tanaka had shared in the locker room after practice he had ditched the girl he had a fuckbuddy relationship wtih.

Yasui had faded highlights in her hair and a simple dark dress. Her face was beautiful though Shoyo thought the makeup was a little excessive. He never really understood lipstick. Wouldn’t it taste weird?

“You wish, Mark,” she replied while she took a seat beside him, “be glad I brought some girls at all. This looks like a sausage fest.”

“Ah, I could go for some kurobuta sausage,” Tanaka moaned as he sat down again, grabbing another beer from the stack in the middle of the table.

“I brought some ciders if anyone wants,” Yasui said as she dropped the bag to add the cans and bottles to the mix. Shoyo stared at one of the cans that said ‘peach cider’, longing for something that wasn’t beer. Cider was supposed to be actually sweet, right?

“Oh, you like this one?” Yasui suddenly said, apparently having noticed his stare.

“I, uh, I haven’t tried it,” Shoyo awkwardly replied. “But I love peaches.”

“You need to try it then,” she smiled, handing it to him. Shoyo accepted the can, noting her long, red nails. They honestly looked a little scary. Shoyo wondered how anyone would get anything done with those. He certainly wouldn't be able to hit any volleyballs.

“So this is Fumi Yasui, my college at 7eleven,” Tanaka began introducing the newcomers, the other two girls finally making it over after getting out of their outerwear. Nishinoya seemed to be talking to the blond girl very enthusiastically.

“Hello,” she smiled at the boys before turning to Nisihnoya who sat down again, “and thanks Noya for having us over, we were just going to drink at my place otherwise.”

“My home is always open for beautiful ladies,” Nishinoya wiggled his eyebrows, receiving a round of laughter, most in secondhand embarrassment.

“This is Kaori Aikyō and Junko Futaba,” she said, gesturing to her two friends. Futaba was the blond one then.

“Mark you know from before, and that’s his friend Matsuno” Tanaka continued, pointing to each person, “and Kageyama and Hinata are from our volleyball team. Like I told you on text we won today, so this is a celebration.”

“Wow, well congrats,” Yasui apploaded, her two friends seemingly a bit more shy.

The night continued with conversations and a few drinking games. Kageyama had made a comment pretty early on about not wanting to drink too much since he was planning on exercising tomorrow. Shoyo was probably gonna spend the day lazing around but he quickly jumped onto the chance to have the same reason as the setter so he wouldn’t have to drink more nasty beer. In a turn of event however, as he was finishing his second cider he realized he much more enjoyed the flavor.

“It’s a dangerous drink,” Nishinoya had warned at one point when Shoyo reached for his third cider, but he waved him off. He was starting to feel a little giddy, only leaning on Kageyama a little bit.

As the night advanced two other people joined the party, apparently friends of Futaba, a girl and a guy, seemingly a couple. Shoyo was in the bathroom while they arrived so he got a quick introduction when he returned but realized he forgot their name the second he sat down. Aikyō was now sitting beside Kageyama and Shoyo tried listening in to their conversation while also focusing on Nishinoya’s story about their victory of the game. The blond girl didn’t look all that into it but she was listening nonetheless.

“So you play for the team too?” Shoyo heard Aikyō ask, glancing at Kageyama once more.

“Yes, I’m the setter,” Kageyama replied, straightforward as always.

“What does that role mean?” Aikyō asked, giggling a little at her own ignorance when it came to volleyball.

“It’s the coolest position. I set the balls for the other players to hit, so it’s my responsibility to run the team’s offense and build up offensive scoring opportunities. Also, I get to play a lot since I need to block, serve and play defense-”

“Kageyama, don’t bore the girl with only volleyball talk,” Tanaka leaned over the table to say, Shoyo watching them both.

“But… she asked,” Kageyama replied, Aikyō waving her hands in the air.

“It’s okay. I might not understand it, really. But I’m glad you won,” she smiled.

“That calls for another toast!” Nishinoya exclaimed, raising his beer.

Shoyo knew the emotions he was feeling was jealousy. Aikyō wasn’t very pushy, but just the slightest touch as she patted Kageyama’s shoulder or tapped his hand made Shoyo stare. He knew he was being unreasonable but he hated it.

It didn’t help when she accidentally knocked over her drink, a glass bottle with a brand Shoyo didn’t recognize, nor if it was beer or cider or something else inside. Nonetheless the liquid splashed right onto Kageyama’s lap, the taller catching the bottle but it was obviously too late. His pants were definitely wet but since they were all black it didn’t show.

“Oh shoot! I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed, her face reddening even further.

“It’s- it’s fine,” Kageyama muttered, grabbing the paper towels on the table.

Tanaka suddenly ordered Kageyama to head with him to the kitchen, Shoyo watching as the two talked about something over by the sink. He wasn’t sure the towel drying Tanaka did helped that much. Shoyo figured he brought Kageyama aside to say something. Perhaps to warn about Aikyō?

She took the opportunity to strike up a conversation with Shoyo and he was surprised at himself with how uncooperative he was being. The way her hair seemed too thin, her slightly crooked teeth and her disinterest at sports; Shoyo was picking apart tiny things he didn’t like about her in his mind.

Who was she to lean all over Kageyama? And why hadn’t he pushed her away?

Why are Shoyo even jealous in the first place?

“So you also play for Kurasuno?” Aikyō asked and Shoyo nodded.

“Uhm, are you also a setter?” she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear. Was her ears a weird shape too?

“There can only be one setter on the court,” Shoyo said. Even when he was as annoyed as he was, he realized the snort was probably a bit too much. She seemed taken back and only nodded, awkwardly waiting for Kageyama to come back.

Shoyo downed the rest of his cider, catching himself as he was about to reach for a fourth can. Or was it the fifth?

When Kageyama returned he sat back down, looking a little stiff. Shoyo wondered what Tanaka had told him. Perhaps it really was a warning to stay away from Aikyō. Maybe she already had a boyfriend, or maybe she was trouble.

“Do you want another beer, Kageyama?” she greeted while he sat down.

The idea of Kageyama becoming infatuated by Aikyō didn’t sit well with Shoyo at all. Would he stop playing volleyball? Or get distracted by her, enough to skip out on practice? It left a bad taste on Shoyo’s tongue and he essentially overreacted.

“Kageyama,” he interrupted them, a pout on his face “I’m getting tired,” he whispered, trying to be discreet. The conversation about action movies on the other side of the table was still going wild, Mark gesturing wildly. Tanaka had his arm around Yasui’s shoulders. The blond girl seemed busy with her phone while Nishinoya excitedly listened to Mark talk about whatever movie he had seen at the cinema.

“Do you want to go home?” Kageyama asked, looking down at Shoyo.

 _‘Wow, his eyes are really large. And really blue,’_ Shoyo found himself thinking, realizing a second later it was because he was leaning on him that he was so close. Kageyama felt warm too, his shirt smelling familiar between the scents of alcohol and perfume.

“Is Shoyo already getting tired? Didn’t he sleep the entire bus trip back here?” Nishinoya teased as he noticed Shoyo drooping on Kageyama’s arm.

“Are you feeling sick?” Kageyama asked, lowering his head so only Shoyo could hear. He shook his head, cheek pressed into Kageyama’s shoulder. When Kageyama still didn’t shrug him off Shoyo shyly smiled to himself. He briefly caught the eye of the girl on the other side, the one who joined last with her boyfriend. She was sitting similar to how Shoyo was, leaning on her boyfriend’s shoulder.

Shoyo diverted his eyes, taking a moment to check his phone.

“Can I stay at your place, Kageyama? I was supposed to sleep at Tanaka’s, since it’s a bit too late to-uh-go… no, take my, what’s it called, home,” Shoyo mumbled over the words.

“Bicycle?” Kageyama supplied.

“Yeah, that. Bicycle,” Shoyo laughed.

“But you know, I think Tanaka might want to stay here a bit longer,” Shoyo hummed, secretly gesturing towards Tanaka and Yasui who were sitting even closer now.

“Okay,” Tobio agreed, Shoyo exhaling a sigh of relief. “I should finish my drink first though.”

“Mhm,” Shoyo agreed, checking his texts meanwhile.

He had never been drunk before but he was aware enough to not text his mom anything stupid. He had thought about writing to Suga about Tanaka and Yasui but stopped himself when he found it difficult to focus on the keyboard on his phone. Had it always been that tiny?

Aikyō was talking about her school, Shoyo vaguely paying attention. The moment he heard Kageyama put down an empty can on the table Shoyo sat up.

He almost forgot his sports bag as they got ready to leave, Tanaka spending a minute to discreetly thank both Shoyo and Kageyama for getting Shoyo another place to sleep for tonight.

“I didn’t know if Yasui would come or not, you know. But I actually think she’s kinda into me,” he whispered, Shoyo laughing. Everything seemed sort of funny and his chest felt light again. His vision was a little blurry and he had to focus while tying his shoelaces.

“Good luck,” Shoyo grinned, feeling Tanaka playfully slap his shoulder.

“Also, Kageyama. Get him some water and maybe a painkiller. I think he had more to drink than what I saw so he might get his first hangover tomorrow.”

“I see,” Kageyama simply replied, looking down at Shoyo with a frown.

“Eeh?” Shoyo exclaimed in denial, dragging out the word. “I’m fine.”

“Yes, yes,” Tanaka chuckled. “Now go home and sleep. Thanks for joining us today, hope you had fun.”

“Thanks,” Kageyama nodded. Shoyo looked back to the living room, catching Noya’s attention with a wave.

“Thanks for having us over,” Shoyo grinned. Nishinoya and the others waved, saying their goodbyes. Shoyo took a second to meet Aikyō’s eyes, noting her blank staring. In a spur of the moment Shoyo poked his tongue out before disappearing out of the apartment, Kageyama tugging on his arm.

It was a relief to finally leave the party but the chill spring night was not as pleasant. Shoyo was still buzzing from the alcohol, having to pay attention to his feet as he walked.

“I think you had a lot more alcohol than you should have,” Kageyama said beside him.

“Mhm, nah, I’m fine,” Shoyo insisted again. “You only had like, two beers, or something?”

“I think I had more. I liked the green brand one,” Kageyama thought aloud.

“The cider was way better. It tasted like p-peach soda and a little beer.”

“If you say so,” Kageyama shrugged. They eventually reached their bikes they had parked a little down the street. Shoyo started digging through his bag to find his keys for the lock.

“I don’t think you should take your bike when you can barely walk,” Kageyama pointed out and Shoyo frowned, still trying to find his keychain. He could hear it rattle in his bag so it was in there somewhere.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not fine,” Kageyama insisted, rolling out his bike. “Get on the rack and I’ll give you a lift. My place isn’t too far from here either so you can just pick up your bike tomorrow.”

Shoyo wanted to argue but eventually gave up. The thought of not having to bike was tempting and he decided getting a ride from Kageyama wouldn’t be too bad.

The trip over to Kageyama’s house was fucking bad.

Shoyo had both their bags in his lap, trying to keep them from falling while also holding onto the rack underneath him. He had tried to hold onto Kageyama but couldn’t reach around his torso over the bags. With every bump Shoyo felt his ass get smashed against the hard metal, whining loudly. He’d have bruises tomorrow, for fucks sake.

When Kageyama finally rolled his bike into a familiar neighborhood Shoyo almost tripped to the ground while getting off the back of the bike. Both bags fell to the ground and Kageyama glared at him while parking his bike. They had left the party just around midnight so Shoyo assumed Kageyama’s mother was asleep.

Apparently she wasn’t even home. The setter had taken one look around the hallway and disclosed the information to Shoyo.

“She works in Tokyo a lot,” he explained and that was that.

Kageyama left Shoyo in his bedroom with a water bottle, informing him he was going to shower. Shoyo frowned a little, pretty sure Kageyama had already showered after the game. With a flashback of a bottle dropping he realized the setter got alcohol on him earlier. For some reason Shoyo didn’t find it that funny.

***-***-***

“Do you like Aikyō?” Shoyo asked a little later.

The room fell silent, the setter turning to look at him.

Shoyo could almost hear his heart beat in his chest, ignoring the stare he knew Kageyama was giving him.

The laptop was sat in front of them on the bed while they lazed around on the futon Kageyama had rolled out of Shoyo. They had each gotten a cup noodle and together with the water Shoyo had chugged down he could sort of feel himself sobering up a bit.

Kageyama had put on a recent game of some big european match that went down last week. Shoyo had tried to pronounce the names of the players with varyingly successful results. Kageyama called him a dumbass but Shoyo could tell he was trying to hide his laughing.

Now he simply stared at him.

“What?”

“I mean,” Shoyo shrugged. “Do you like her? I think she maybe liked you, she talked to you a lot.”

He heard Kageyama groan next to him. “I don’t know? She knew nothing of volleyball, I think she even called it basketball once-”

Shoyo couldn’t help the giggling that escaped at that, some of his nerves disappearing with the amusement. Kageyama rolled his eyes.

“Why do you ask? Do you like her?”

“Bwha?” Shoyo spluttered, turning to stare at Kageyama. “No! She was too weird. And ears were really weird too…”

“Her… ears?” Kageyama asked, confusion evident in his voice. Shoyo reached down to pick at his socks.

“They just looked weird, I don’t know.”

“So what you look for in girls are ears?” Kageyama teased.

“Shut up, it’s not,” Shoyo whined. “Plus, she was interested in you, not me.”

Kageyama leaned back on his arms, only mildly paying attention to the video. “I thought she just wanted to talk since her friends were busy.”

“I don’t think the blond girl liked Noya that much, but Yasui was all over Tanaka though,” Shoyo hummed.

“Tanaka talks about girls all the time recently. It’s annoying when he does it at practice,” Kageyama added, Shoyo snickering at his words. If anything obstructed volleyball Kageyama instantly wasn’t a fan.

It seemed Shoyo had nothing to worry about after all. Kageyama was still the same.

“I suppose they might get together, though,” Shoyo guessed.

Kageyama didn’t reply for a second, watching the game once more. Then he cleared his throat. “Do you want a girlfriend?”

Shoyo wasn’t too surprised by the question but fumbled with an answer anyway. It wasn’t the first time Kageyama had mentioned it. But the truth was that Shoyo didn’t know.

There were some cute girls out there, definitely. Shoyo liked the sporty girls and those who were hardworking at what they enjoyed. To him passion was important, far more than looks. He had never quite understood the hype about boobs on girls, but then again that might come from his own history with those sort of things.

He definitely got crushes on girls though and Shoyo had fawned over female idols before, dreaming about dating a couple too.

But then there were men.

Shoyo had originally considered it to simply be a byproduct of his dysphoria. He found broad shoulders, toned muscles, shaped abs to be beautiful, because it was simply what he wanted, right?. His arms were getting bigger with all the exercising and his legs was always proof of his ability to jump, but Shoyo never quite looked like those men in the sports magazines. He was willing to give it time but in the meantime he let himself admire the handsome bodies. And perhaps it wasn’t only envy and desire to work harder himself, perhaps it was also something else.

Kageyama was tall, his shoulders were wide and while he wasn’t exactly as muscular as Daichi or Asahi he still had shape. His legs were a bit stick-like but he somehow had one of the team’s most defined abs. Shoyo stared a lot but coughed it up to being a motivation for himself, rather than admiration.

“I don’t know,” Shoyo finally replied. “Do you?”

“I’m not sure I’m interested in girls,” Kageyama admitted, his words spoken so quickly Shoyo had to focus to make sense of them. Did he mean he didn’t like girls? Or romantic relationships in general?

“Oh… you’re not?” Shoyo asked, scratching his chin awkwardly.

“I think it’s a waste of time. Especially if it takes away time from the thing you enjoy doing. I don’t want a girlfriend just because _‘I should have one’_ ,” Kageyama muttered defensively. It sounded like he had held a conversation similar to this before. Maybe with his mother?

While the first words were a little dumb Shoyo couldn’t help but to nod.

“I think I agree. But I also don’t think I would mind having… someone, if-if I really like them,” Shoyo replied, watching the team on the screen call for a timeout. Their trainer was a little too excited where he jumped up and down on the spot in his fancy suit.

“It sounds like a hassle, having to go on dates and stuff,” Kageyama added. “When Sugawara was dating Ishizu before the finals he was always busy and he missed a lot of practices-”

“He missed two, Kageyama,” Shoyo pointed out.

“Whatever. It just feels time consuming and distracting. Like those things overshadow the good parts.”

“The good parts?” Shoyo wondered, blinking.

Kageyama immediately flushed, shrugging. “I don’t know, like, if you like someone you feel good with them, right?”

Shoyo slowly nodded. Then his mind caught up with him and he wondered if he had understood that correctly.

“You mean sex?”

“I-... sure,” Kageyama shrugged. “They always say it’s great, in the changing rooms, right?”

Shoyo once again could only stare at the screen in front of them, having to avoid looking anywhere near Kageyama. From what he saw in the corner of his eye the setter was also focusing on the video.

“I guess,” Shoyo mumbled, bringing up his knees to rest his chin on them. He wasn’t sure where this conversation was going but the alcohol still in his system certainly helped it escalate. “I still haven’t… you know, with anyone I mean,” he admitted, mostly because he was curious to hear what Kageyama would reply.

“Me… me neither.”

Shoyo nodded, ignoring his quickening pulse.

“I think I want to though…”

Shoyo finally turned his head, staring at Kageyama. The setter didn’t say anything but met Shoyo’s eyes, shrugging to appear casual once more.

In his ears Shoyo’s heart was beating louder and louder.

“It’s not like I haven’t thought about it. And I remember Oikawa talking about how it was… good for stress relief and stuff, you know.”

“Who do you… imagine? A girl from school or, uh, one of those dating apps Nishinoya uses?” Shoyo wondered, his voice only a mumble.

Kageyama seemed to think it over for a second. “I don’t know, but I guess I wouldn’t mind something only physical, if- if the person didn’t have the same interests as me.”

“I see,” Shoyo said, feeling his stomach tighten. He was imagining it, had been trying not to for the last couple of minutes. How Kageyama would look when he was doing it with someone, flushed red while feeling good because of the pleasure.

_‘Stress relief’._

“I… I’m not really sure, about me I mean. I don’t know if everyone would be so accepting of…” Shoyo paused, frowning. Kageyama seemed to understand thought, awkwardly nodding beside him.

“You- You’re, uh, d-down there…?” he tried and if Shoyo hadn’t already been red as a tomato in embarrassment he would’ve surely laughed. Instead he just cleared his throat.

“You can’t do any surgery until you’re 20 and you have to be allowed first and… a bunch of stuff,” he explained, trying to sound nonchalant. He wasn’t sure he was being very successful.

“But you… like girls, right?” Kageyama asked, eyebrows furrowing. Shoyo wanted to slam his face into the laptop keyboard in front of them but refrained from doing so.

“I guess…”

“I guess?”

“I…” Shoyo breathed out. The moment of truth. “I think I like both.”

“Oh,” Kageyama exhaled. He didn’t sound that surprised though.

“What about you?”

“I don’t know,” Kageyama said, surprisingly honest. Shoyo dared to look at him once more, finding him frowning down at his hands. “I’m still not sure who-what sort of person I imagine I want to date and stuff… but I don’t think I would mind doing stuff with a girl or a boy either.”

Shoyo felt himself exhale loudly, his blood pulsing. Kageyama glanced at him, raising an eyebrow at the noise. It was dark in the room but Shoyo could tell he was flushed red too.

Far away outside a car was honking, the night otherwise mostly quiet. Kageyama’s blinds were pulled down but the gaps in between each piece of plastic printed a pattern across the room of the light coming from the lamp post outside.

Shoyo sat there, in the middle of Kageyama’s room on a futon underneath them, watching some international volleyball tournament while his heart went nuts.

“Do you…” Kageyama was the one to begin. Shoyo’s eyes caught his tongue poking out as Kageyama licked his lips.

“Do you want to try it?” he finished and Shoyo felt himself swallow.

He could hear himself scream in the back of his mind. Shoyo didn’t know what the fuck to say. He wasn’t completely sure what he wanted, but the no on his tongue didn’t feel right. It felt disappointing. He thought about yes, imagined them doing it, like how people did in porn and his ears started to ring.

He might have had his first beer that evening but Shoyo wasn’t a complete saint. The testosterone shots were obviously expected to change a lot of things in him but the side effects could never be predictable. Shoyo had been lucky with the acne part but he sweated a lot more than before. But a major change was his sex drive which was amped up _a lot_.

Yet Shoyo had only ever used his fingers and when he was horny and in the moment he sometimes thought about buying some sort of object to penetrate himself with.

After his orgasm he usually discarded the idea. His fingers could do the job in the meantime, even if it didn’t always feel enough.

Now, right here in the moment, Shoyo felt a familiar wave of excitement pass through him, warmth circling right between his legs.

“I think I do,” he admitted, holding onto his knees, “but… I,” he tried, attempting to find the right words.

Kageyama waited, uncharacteristically but patiently. Shoyo collected himself, gathering his thoughts before grasping all his bravery to get the words out.

“I need to know that you understand that I… I’m not a girl,” he said, his voice surprisingly steady. Shoyo was nervous and obviously excited but this was important to him; he needed to get this across first.

“I know that,” Kageyama replied instantly and he truly looked earnest.

“And I may have- I may still have parts that… but I’m still a boy. I’m just a little... different. From you.”

“I know,” Kageyama repeated, his voice suddenly more collected than before. He was paying attention and it somehow seemed important to him to convince Shoyo he wasn’t just half-assing this.

“Shoyo, I don’t think of you as anything but a boy and I don’t think I ever really did. Even when you told me. I-I mean I thought about it, how you would be different if you were- if you never realized you were a boy, uh… but I didn’t think that about _you_ you, I just thought about it, because I couldn’t really picture it and I hadn’t even considered you weren’t always a boy- not that you were ever a girl! I-if you didn’t want to be- I mean, not that it’s just a thing that you _want_ , more like- like what you are and-and- can you stop fucking laughing!? I’m trying, idiot Hinata!” Kageyama yelled, shoulders pushing up in frustration while Shoyo hid his laughter behind a hand.

He hadn’t meant to laugh, it just sort of slipped out of him in the middle of Kageyama’s awkward rambling. Perhaps it was the tense atmosphere and the relief when he finally understood his friend’s train of thought. He meant well, and he was trying really hard. It was strangely endearing and it made something in Shoyo’s stomach flutter.

“Kageyama,” Shoyo smiled as he leaned towards him, surprised by the newly found courage. “Okay. Let’s try it.”

Kageyama was still embarrassed from his not-very-thought-out speech but his eyes seemed to shine a little at the words. He stared at Shoyo for a moment before finally making the first move. With a warm hand he slid it under Shoyo’s jaw, caressing the side of his face before leading forwards.

Shoyo might’ve never had sex before but he had kissed girls. Only twice though. Both of them had been at games with friends, similar to truth and dare.

This was everything but that.

Kageyama was inexperienced but eager, clearly surprising both himself and Shoyo. It didn’t take long before he got onto his knees to lean over him, gently guiding Shoyo to lie down on the futon. He hovered above him, still curious about the feeling of their mouths together.

Shoyo took the next step, carding a hand through Kageyama’s hair before opening his mouth to taste, pushing his tongue against his lips. They both let out sounds of thrill, Shoyo only mildly embarrassed by his own moan while Kageyama sighed, the warm air hitting Shoyo ‘s face.

When Kageyama was finally getting used to the tongue kissing Shoyo was also the first to initiate more. He let his other hand run over Kageyama’s back, tracing his spine and memorizing the heat from his body with his palm. As his hand reached the end Shoyo curiously trailed his fingertips over the naked skin above his hips. Sliding his hand up under his shirt made Kageyama release a groan into the kiss.

Breaking the kiss for the first time Kageyama leaned back onto his knees to shrug out of his shirt. Shoyo stared at his exposed torso, somehow feeling a little victorious to finally be able to touch those abs he had admired from afar so many times.

Kageyama let his own hand fall onto Shoyo’s stomach, meeting his eyes as he simply left his hand there.

Shoyo appreciated the respect Kageyama gave him, when he remembered to. Biting his lip Shoyo thought it over.

“I… I’d like to keep my shirt on,” he decided, Kageyama nodded. He slid a hand down further to Shoyo’s jeans, a hand trailing the denim seam on the outside of his thigh.

Shoyo took matters into his own hands for that part and unbuttoned his jeans, gesturing for Kageyama to do the same. Then it was a race to the finish line.

Shoyo removed his pants and socks, moving to get comfortable in the middle of the futon. As he turned around he realized Kageyama had taken everything off and without any warning his dick was just _right there_.

“Jesus,” he heard himself exhale, watching as Kageyama once more sat down in between Shoyo’s legs. Suddenly he didn’t seem so sure of himself considering Shoyo’s reaction and Kageyama stilled, eyes wide. Shoyo didn’t want that though and sat up to slide his arms around his neck, putting their mouths to use once more.

Kissing Kageyama was really nice. It was easy, after a little getting used to, and Shoyo loved the warm feeling it left in his chest. His lips were soft, his tongue wet and currently tasting of nothing but his toothpaste.

“Can I- Can I touch you?” he asked in between kisses, successfully distracting Kageyama with his lips.

“Yes,” Kageyama replied and it sounded quite desperate. Shoyo had aimed to receive a reply of acceptance but instead got one of neediness.

The room wasn’t especially warm but Kageyama was as heated as a heater. Shoyo was the one still wearing his shirt and underwear, technically three layers counting his binder, but he somehow felt a little chilly.

Taking the lead Shoyo gently pushed Kageyama to lie down on the futon instead. He briefly thought about moving to the bed but the tongue against his distracted him, convincing him it was perfectly fine to stay where they already were.

Shoyo was definitely too gentle as he trailed a hand down Kageyama’s chest to finally touch his cock. He didn’t grab it yet but instead traced the shape, feeling the weight and heat of his length in his hand.

He looked big. Like, really big. Shoyo wasn’t sure what an average cock looked like though. Sure, he had seen porn. Several times in fact. But he hadn’t seen a dick in real life before, not in front of him like this.

As his curiosity won over Shoyo broke the kiss to lean back a little, allowing himself to stare.

“It’s big,” he said aloud, as honest as always, glancing up at Kageyama for his reaction. The setter was flushed red and his lips slightly red. He didn’t reply and Shoyo glanced back down as he let his fingers finally grab him properly, experimentally giving it a slow tug.

He heard Kageyama inhale above him and Shoyo instantly knew this was bad, _real bad._ He loved the reaction right away.

Giving him a last quick kiss Shoyo then settled down onto the bed to the side of Kageyama, focusing on his right hand still gripping his cock. He paused to pull a bit of the sheets up over their legs, then grabbed him once again.

Kageyama groaned above him, raising a hand to cover his eyes as he arched into the touch.

“Shoyo,” he whined, “you need to grip it tighter than that.”

Shoyo did what he was told, tightening his fist while he let his thumb swipe over the head. It felt a little odd, Shoyo focusing on the sensation and shape as he tried to mimic what he had seen on the internet on his incognito tab.

The excitement was probably visible on his face and in his eyes but with his legs closed Shoyo knew Kageyama couldn’t see how wet his boxers were getting. Without realizing Shoyo had started to roll his hips against the futon. Unknowingly chasing that feeling he had gotten addicted to he slowly grinded against the sheets, desperate to feel it again.

With a sigh he let his head fall onto Kageyama’s chest, shakily inhaling as he forced his hips to still when he realized what he was doing. He didn’t pause his right hand but slowed down the pumping motion he was doing. In reality his wrist was already getting a little tired from the angle.

“You… you still game for this?” Shoyo asked against his skin, conflicted in how horny he was but also insecure about himself. Kageyama had said he didn’t care if it was a boy or a girl which Shoyo supposed was supposed to make him feel good. In actuality he wasn’t so sure. The inner conflict was leaning both ways regarding that statement.

On one hand Shoyo supposed it helped that Kageyama could be attracted to… the oposite sex, a vagina that was. He might be a male but he didn’t have the same parts Kageyama did and if he had been gay Shoyo wasn’t sure if they could even get this far in the first place. When he was first starting to transition he had read about people who broke up with their partners because of sexual attraction issues mainly connected to intercourse.

On the other hand Shoyo was undeniably a male and he hated the thought of Kageyama saying he was into both girls and boys just to get into his pants. What if he wasn’t into boys at all and just said so to try to convince Shoyo. Perhaps he just wanted to fuck someone with a pussy and Shoyo happened to be the one he was the closest to. He might say considerate things but what he truly, deep down thought about his transgender teammate Shoyo would never know.

But whether that was his own paranoia or just insecurity and self hatred, Shoyo didn’t know.

“Yeah. Come on,” Kageyama hissed, bringing Shoyo back to the present.

A hand fell on his thigh again, trailing the edge of his boxers. Shoyo knew he needed to make up his mind, closing his eyes to try to collect himself. The hand sliding over to his ass to grab his butt may or may not have distracted him quite a bit.

“Hinata,” Kageyama whispered.

Amidst a chuckle Shoyo leaned back to face him again, getting onto his knees, mind made up. Crawling over his legs Shoyo bit his lip, deciding what he wanted to do first. Sitting down on Kageyama’s hips, just below his hard cock Shoyo took the first step.

With collected courage he slid forwards just slightly, feeling the warmth of Kageyama’s length under him, even through his boxers. It pushed back down against the setter’s stomach as Shoyo let himself roll his hips, slowly sliding back and forth.

He could feel the wave of pleasure pulse through him as he rubbed himself against the shape, simultaneously making sure Kageyama felt how wet he was.

“Fuck,” Kageyama grunted, his head thrown back against the pillow.

“Mhm,” Shoyo hummed, keeping his rhythm slow but even. “Feels good but… ‘s not enough.”

Kageyama opened his eyes to stare at Shoyo, mouth open and eyelids half closed. He was already breathing a bit heavily.

“What- what do you want to do, Kageyama?” Shoyo asked with another thrust.

The setter didn’t reply immediately, still evidently busy enjoying the feeling. Then he reached for Shoyo’s hips with one hand, trying to speed up his moving.

“You- It’s up to you,” he replied.

Shoyo felt a smile fall onto his lips, the words warming him a little bit more, erasing some of the doubts and uncertainty.

“I want to fuck you,” Shoyo said, loud and clear. It was amazing to feel the pulse and movement of Kageyama’s cock as he said those words. Shoyo had read somewhere that dicks could move on their own, but to feel it happen? It was actually a bit more funny than hot.

“I-in my pants,” Kageyama breathed, now taking hold of both Shoyo’s hips to lead him back and forwards, bucking up against him. He closed his eyes in pleasure when he got an especially good angle.

“Your pants?” Shoyo asked with a moan, raising an eyebrow.

“A condom. Tanaka gave it to me. At the party,” Kageyama explained and Shoyo found himself slowly coming to a stop. Even as Kageyama pushed on his hips for him to move Shoyo stilled, pushing his hands off.

“It was for Aikyō,” Kageyama explained, Shoyo feeling a sigh of relief leaving his body. As far as he knew neither Nishinoya nor Tanaka knew about him, and the first thought was that Tanaka somehow knew.

But it made sense. Tanaka had taken Kageyama aside after noticing how much Aikyō seemed to be over him.

With new vigor definitely growing from the jealousy Shoyo quickly got to his feet, removing his underwear before grabbing Kageyama’s discarded pants from the floor.

Just as promised there was a single Okamoto packet in his right pocket, Shoyo fighting with the wrapper as he sat back down over Kageyama’s legs in the same position.

“You-” Kageyama started to say but quieted, Shoyo glancing at him. He noted the redness up his neck and realized it might be because of Shoyo’s sudden nakedness. He supposed Kageyama hadn’t seen anything of him up until now.

“Do you… can- do you want to touch me?” Shoyo asked, a little breathily. Kageyama seemed to take the words as permission to also look because he obviously tried hard not to at first.

“Is it okay?” he asked, one hand falling onto Shoyo’s hip again, over his shirt.

Shoyo nodded. He still didn’t want to remove his shirt but he let go of the condom to tug his shirt up a bit for a second. Kageyama caressed his skin right above his hip bone, his thumb sliding over it gently. Then he let his hand travel downwards, fingers passing over the hairs before sliding in between his legs.

It was different to anything Shoyo had ever felt. He usually just used his fingers on himself, sometimes a pillow if he was home alone. This sensation of someone else was so alien he surprised himself by letting out a loud gasp.

Kageyama was incredibly careful, probably similar to how Shoyo had been hesitant with his cock as well. He used his fingertips to feel the area, mouth falling open as he felt the wetness between Shoyo’s folds.

“I might need to… get adjusted to the size, a little,” Shoyo admitted with realization as he finally got the condom open. He grabbed Kageyama’s length again, feeling the size in his hand. Shoyo usually didn’t fuck his fingers inside of himself because the most it got him was frustrated that he couldn’t reach as far inside as he wanted, as far as his body craved. It wasn’t only the angle he couldn't quite get right on his own but in addition his fingers weren’t the longest. He always reached orgasm though, just usually without penetration.

“What…?” Kageyama asked, obviously a little confused at what he meant.

Shoyo spread his legs a bit, sighing as the hand followed to continue touching him, but not exactly how he wanted it.

“Inside,” he whispered, a little awkwardly, slightly needy and annoyed. Kageyama listened though and a finger soon slid inside, Shoyo feeling himself relax.

“Whoa,” Kageyama awed, “It’s so warm.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not a microwave,” Shoyo huffed at the comment.

If he thought the feeling earlier was odd this was something completely else. Kageyama’s fingers weren’t too thick but certainly long. With how wet Shoyo was though he needed more to feel him.

“Two,” he whispered. The second intrusion was a little more intense. Shoyo stilled to feel how Kageyama moved his fingers inside, touching where he could reach.

Grabbing Kageyama’s wrist Shoyo held it in place while experimentally lifting himself on and off, closing his eyes to focus.

“One more,” he whispered, rolling his head to the side at the feeling.

Three fingers enter him and Shoyo sighed at the stretch. Once more he moved up and down the digits, testing the feeling. Could he do four, he thought. Or should he just go for the prize already?

Shoyo couldn’t even try to deny how aroused he was. He wanted it. So fucking bad.

“Fuck, Kageyama,” Shoyo gaped, opening his eyes to meet blue ones in awe.

His legs were shaking when he bent his knees, feeling his fingers exit. When Kageyama placed both hands on his hips to lay him down, one wet to the touch, Shoyo didn’t argue. He got comfortable on the futon once more, staring up at the setter.

“Are you ready?” Kageyama asked, still nervous. Shoyo nodded, parting his legs to make room for the other. Shuffling in between his knees Kageyama finally lined himself up, testing to push inside just a little.

Shoyo could already tell he would feel it, that it wouldn’t be as easy as three fingers.

“Hurry, shit-” he grunted, words interrupted as Kageyama finally obeyed.

It was a lot more than three fingers, to say the least.

Even though Shoyo was practically soaked and the condom seemed to have lube on it, the head of Kageyama’s cock was much wider then three fingertips. Shoyo reached down to touch himself, to relax further.

“Holy fucking shit,” Kageyama hissed above him, another small shove getting him further inside. Shoyo grunted, trying hard to not clench down on the invasion.

“Okay, hng, okay, stay still,” Shoyo exclaimed when he was sure Kageyama was finally fully inside. “Fuck, you’re big, you fucking-”

Kageyama carefully got comfortable between Shoyo’s legs but stayed in place as much as he could. When Shoyo lost focus for a second he found himself clamping down on instinct, initiating a domino effect as Kageyama thrust forwards in surprise, Shoyo in turn whining loudly.

“Okay, still,” he panted, holding onto his arms. They were touching pretty much everywhere, Kageyama’s chest pushing against Shoyo’s shirt.

“I’m trying- Don’t do that thing,” Kageyama argued back, Shoyo chuckling at his words even in the middle of a situation like this.

“Okay… You can start, but do it slow,” Shoyo hummed, eyes falling closed once more to focus on the feeling, to convince his body to relax.

It took a lot less time than Shoyo expected before he started feeling good. The pain was still there, stinging a little in between each wave of pleasure. But with each thrust Shoyo felt himself cling onto the new sensation of Kageyama’s cock pushing deep inside. The warmth was a lot more than Shoyo had expected but definitely welcomed.

When the first couple of slapping sounds echoed in the room Shoyo heard Kageyama grunt in annoyance, trying to angle his hips differently.

Shoyo opened his eyes, discovering a much more disheveled Kageyama than last time.  
Something inside of him felt quite proud at the sight. Because he was the one who did that. Shoyo was the one who did that to him.

The sudden wet noises weren’t much better, in Shoyo’s opinion even worse. He knew he was a lot more soaked than usual but the slick noises with each thrust made Shoyo flush even further. Covering his face in embarrassment he heard Kageyama chuckle above him.

“How are you… fuck, this wet? Where… does it come from?” the setter asked in the middle of forceful thrusts. Shoyo wanted to reach up and slap his head but he was a little busy trying to focus on his breathing, whimpering loudly each time he shoved deep inside.

“How should I- arhg, know? D-ah, dummy.”

It didn’t take long for the two of them to combine into a mess of moans, gasping and whining. Kageyama was still figuring it out as he went but the last rhythm he decided on had Shoyo panting loudly, hands searching for something to hold onto.

“Ahh, fuck, Kageyama,” Shoyo got out inbetween his heavy breathing, the overwhelming feeling nothing close to what he’d felt before. It all just felt like _a lot_. Shoyo hadn’t even touched himself down there yet.

“I’m- I think I’m close,” Kageyama warned as he leaned further over Shoyo, chin right over his head.

Shoyo whined in displeasure. He didn’t want it to be over already.

The part of him that wanted to try orgasming to his feeling, however, won. Shoyo reached down, trying to find a rhythm that he liked, rubbing clockwise. It was a lot different than when he did it alone though, his legs bent apart and hole stretched wide open as Kageyama’s cock shoved inside just underneath.

Shoyo raised his head to try and get a look between their bodies, mouth falling open at the sight of his dick pumping in and out. It was dark and a little blurry, Shoyo’s ability to feel the thrusts inside of himself his only indication of the speed. However, what he could see was the end of the condom where it stretched around the base of Kageyama, the ring of rolled rubber moving up as he exited him before disappearing down in between his legs as he shoved back inside.

Letting his head fall back Shoyo fumbled with his hand again. He was first going to try to find a rhythm but curiosity had him reaching a little lower, parting two fingers to feel the edge where Kageyama was pushing inside. Opening his eyes he watched Kageyama look at him from above, both of them breathing heavily.

With a twist of his wrist Shoyo pressed his fingertips where his body begged for them, holding Kageyama’s eyecontant. He couldn't really get the same grip he usually used but it certainly didn’t matter. As Kageyama’s thrusts got wilder and less consistent Shoyo sped up his own moving, being unable to stop himself to clench down on the thickness inside of him.

With a deep groan Shoyo pushed himself over the edge, stomach tensing and legs parting even further. Thank god for jumping muscles. Kageyama moaned an octave or two higher, having to brace himself with both arms on either side of Shoyo’s head as he slammed his hips inside, muscles shaking as he tensed.

Shoyo felt himself reach the top of his high, his hand still lazily going, wrist nowhere close to aching. He would usually be pretty tired by the time he reached orgasm but now he instead had stamina for at least another round. He supposed that was one of the perks of having a partner with a good cock and healthy stamina. Kageyama just happened to cross both of those things off.

When said setter finally fell on top of him Shoyo only hummed, still basking in the euphoria. A couple seconds later he felt his legs start to shake when he was getting close to oversensitive.

The body on top of him suddenly fell to the side, the length inside him slipping out. Shoyo exhaled and opened his eyes, feeling a little groggy. He wasn’t sure for how long his orgasm had lasted.

He could feel his hole twitch though, already longing for the stretch again. Shoyo was positive he would feel sore later.

“What kind of orgasm was that?” Kageyama asked when Shoyo turned his head to him.

“Hm?” Shoyo raised an eyebrow, mind still a little foggy.

“I thought you were, like, fainting or something,” Kageyama said, brushing his hair out of his face.

“Ha,” Shoyo chuckled. “It’s a perk for people with vaginas.”

“What? Really?” Kageyama asked, not sounding completely convinced. Shoyo moved over a little to get comfortable, appreciating the sheet suddenly pulled over them.

“Mhm, google it,” Shoyo hummed.

He watched as Kageyama fiddled with something between his own legs before he got the condom off, looking at it with disgust.

Shoyo laughed at his expression, watching him tie it and toss it somewhere near his trash can.

“Can you, uh, get pregnant?” the setter asked, Shoyo once again surprised by his straightforwardness, even after knowing him for so long.

“No, the hormones block it. I don’t get a period and I can’t get preggers, thank fuck.”

“I see,” was all Kageyama replied, lying back down on the futon.

Shoyo was still catching his breath, a hand trailing down under the sheets to feel himself. It was still a mess of wetness and he dried his hand on the sheet under him.

“So?” he started, rolling over to look at Kageyama. “What do you think? Better than volleyball?”

They both contemplated over the issue for a couple seconds, Shoyo pursing his lips as he pondered over it, Kageyama wearing that scary expression he did when he was deep in thought.

Shoyo had his first taste of alcohol the first day of June and he also lost his virginity the same night.

It wasn’t too bad at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did you know Shoyo Hinata's VA Ayumu Murase has a fetish for ears lmao what a freak i love it


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story will go further than the manga but as of now it's sorta following some of the events there, including the time skip. Some stuff are obviously gonna change from the plot of the manga chapters but if you want to avoid **haikyuu manga spoilers** don't read past this point :*

When he woke up next to Kageyama the next morning, Shoyo thought it could’ve all gone a lot worse, all things considered.

He had borrowed an old shirt from Kageyama to sleep in since Shoyo ultimately forgot sleeping clothes, white with a faded print of some sort of seapark. Kageyama must’ve worn the shirt when he was younger, taking the smaller size in mind.

When Kageyama woke up Shoyo put his phone down, turning to look at him. The taller slowly blinked awake, reaching up to scratch his forehead.

“Morning,” Shoyo smiled, moving his pillow down so he could roll over onto his stomach, resting his head in both hands.

“Mhm,” Kageyama groaned, his voice still rough. “What time is it?”

“Like eleven. You want some water?”

Kageyama accepted the water bottle and quickly downed half of it. “You know if my mom is home?”

“I went downstairs to get the water earlier, she wasn’t there then,” Shoyo explained.

Kageyama stared at the ceiling for a minute, slowly waking up. He had bags under his eyes.

“Did you not sleep well?” Shoyo asked, pouting. He had woken up with a dry throat but after drinking some water he felt pretty good.

“I think I’ve got a headache,” Kageyama replied, sitting up in his bed, holding his head.

“Hmm. So I’m the lightweight but you’re the one susceptible to hangovers? Guess that’s fair,” Shoyo chuckled.

“How is that fair?” Kageyama groaned, reaching for the bottle again. As he moved the sheets around he scunched his nose, probably noticing the scent of sex and sweat still lingering around them.

“We need to shower,” he noted.

“You also need a bigger bed,” Shoyo said as Kageyama crawled over him to get to the floor.

“I’m gonna piss,” he said instead, ignoring the comment. While it wasn’t a double bed it was at least larger than a child’s bed. They both fit but Kageyama had definately gotten some Shoyo limbs on him during the night.

With Kageyama still in the bathroom Shoyo thought about yesterday. He could still feel a bit of an ache between his legs but it wasn’t too bad. It was more like a reminder of what they’d done.

While growing up Shoyo hadn’t really considered sex as a posibility, at least not in the sense of him enjoying it too. He imagined pleasing others but not the other way around because he always hated his own body. It was just common knowledge to him that those parts were wrong and should thus be ignored as much as possible, and when noticed or realized should be despised.

Growing up Shoyo had busied himself with other things and understood that so much self reflection and self centering might not do him that much good. Volleyball distracted him and with age he realized things might not be so bad. He was an optimist at heart and he knew he was lucky for his supportive family. He lived somewhere he was accepted, at least by those he knew.

It took him a bit of time but Shoyo had a moment of realization when he decided to quit stopping himself from having fun. He wouldn’t let the insecurities lead his life. It was difficult at first and Shoyo didn’t always have the strength to ignore the malicious voice in the back of his mind. But he tried and just like Shoyo defied the odds with playing volleyball he hadn’t let his insecurity stop him yesterday. Sex felt damn good and Kageyama was kind but above all he didn’t treat Shoyo any differently.

Truth be told, being brave was incredibly difficult. Shoyo could front and say he didn’t care what people thought about him but that wasn’t always the case.

But somehow, for some reason, Kageyama was the exception. Not only since yesterday, but since months ago. Shoyo feared judgement, to get looked at differently, treated differently.

Shoyo picked up a feather that had escaped from the pillow, rolling it between two fingers.

When it came to Kageyama the feeling somehow wasn't there. Perhaps it was because Shoyo felt like he knew him well enough, that he was aware of how Kageyama thought. He wasn’t too difficult to figure out considering he wore his heart on his sleeve, expressions always telling.

He was awkward when talking about the things Shoyo felt insecure about but not because he didn’t like the topic and the word “trans” made him cringe. It was because he could tell Shoyo was uncomfortable, knew that it wasn’t something to be taken lightly. He respected Shoyo’s space, in his own way. He put up a rude front but Shoyo had long learned to speak Kageyama. Perhaps he had paid too much attention to learn the language and the underlying meaning behind ‘idiot Hinata’.

Perhaps Shoyo simply liked him enough to treat him differently.

The thought was scary and made Shoyo’s chest clench.

Was it because Kageyama was one of the only people who knew? But Daichi knew and Shoyo would never want to mention anything related to his insecurities to him, even the thought made him nervous.

Shoyo frowned at the feather, wondering what it was all supposed to mean. Blowing air he let it fly over the edge of the bed to land somewhere on the floor.

He heard the toilet flush and rolled back over onto his back, trailing a hand down his stomach. His trust in Kageyama was nice nonetheless because he didn’t feel like he had to hide or hurry into his binder. It was in his bag, ready for when he felt like properly waking up. Kageyama knew about him and it was fine.

It was okay.

Shoyo’s issues were his own and he would work them out in time, but for the things he could handle now he would.

His thighs were still wet, which was probably a bit nasty, but Shoyo let his hand travel down anyway. He shuddered with the first touch, sighed at the feeling of the second. The fact that he could just do this, do what his body asked for was still exhilarating.

Kageyama halted when he entered the room, watching Shoyo from the door. He was still under the sheets but it was pretty clear what he was doing.

“You’re gonna have to wash the sheets anyway, right?” Was Shoyo’s argument. While it was probably pretty dumb Kageyama seemed to agree anyway.

“Wait, I only had one condom,” Kageyama paused, bowers half-way down his legs.

“You’re clean though, right? Both us hadn’t had sex before yesterday, right?” Shoyo asked, jumping up on the bed to make room for Kageyama.

“Well, no I hadn’t but is that how it works?” he asked. Even with the uncertainty he still removed the rest of his clothes, crawling back up on the bed.

“Yeah, didn’t we learn that in s-sex education?” Shoyo asked, pausing. All he remembered was the awful images and videos their poor biology teacher had to show them.

“... Should I google it?” Kageyama asked, glancing at his phone.

“But gay people have sex without condoms all the time,” Shoyo frowned.

After some quick internet searching they both seemed to exhale in relief, Shoyo giving him a ridiculous thumbs up.

Sitting back against the wall of his room Kageyama motioned for him to come closer, Shoyo crawling into his lap, the excitement back full force like it never left.

The stretch was once more pretty damn overwhelming and Shoyo had to spend a moment to loosen up, holding onto Kageyama’s shoulders as he got used to his shape again. The setter was never this gentle when it came to anything else and Shoyo felt his heart swell up a little.

Noticing how tense he was Shoyo leaned forwards to give him a kiss, licking his way into his mouth. It evidently helped to distract him too and eventually Shoyo started to drag his hips back and forth. Leaning back Shoyo broke the kiss to watch where the two were joined, mouth opening with an ‘oh’ at the sight.

With the daylight now filling the room the view was completely different to the tipsy haze in the dark yesterday. Shoyo felt like he should be more embarrassed than he was. He met Kageyama’s eyes as he rolled his hips back and forth, both of them in a breathy awe at the sensation.

“It’s… really different,” Kageyama gasped while letting his fingers travel from Shoyo’s thighs to his hips, silently asking him with his hands to move faster. Shoyo listened to the request, bracing his legs and feet on the bed as he started to lift his hips, still moving slowly.

“How so?”

“It feels different. I can… I feel a lot more,” Kageyama whimpered.

Shoyo felt a smirk grow on his face. “Mhm?”

He vaguely remembered the power he felt from jacking off Kageyama yesterday. Something about the pleasure he could cause to someone else, to the boy in front of him, all from his own hands. Shoyo could already tell he was going to get addicted to it.

Kageyama’s eyes fell to his lips then back up to his eyes, probably recognizing the mischief in Shoyo’s eyes.

“Tell me how it feels,” Shoyo commanded, his voice only a whisper.

“Fuck,” Kageyama hissed as he clenched down. There was a rhythmic noise of the bed moving in time with Shoyo rolling his hips, a squelching sound as he sat down on Kageyama’s hips, pushing them close.

“It’s uh, it’s tight but really soft. And warm,” he got out, closing his eyes.

Shoyo felt a shudder pass through him, not only from the words but also from the effect he could tell he was having on Kageyama. Leaning forwards he one again pressed his lips against his, a hand moving to hold his jaw in place.

“Does it feel good?” he asked against his lips. “Do I make you feel good?”

“G-guess, you idiot” Kageyama hissed, annoyance and embarrassment evident in his voice.

Shoyo laughed lightly.. He wasn’t too sure he could tell that much of a difference but it might’ve also been because he wasn’t completely sober yesterday. It felt nice though. Really nice.

Bracing both hands on Kageyama’s shoulders Shoyo moved his legs once more, lifting himself before dropping back down, getting ready to properly fuck him.

It only took two, three thrusts before Shoyo came to a stop though, shutting his eyes in discomfort. “S-stop, stop.”

“What?” Kageyama instantly worried, freezing in his spot. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, just… stop,” Shoyo breathed, reaching up to hold an arm across his chest. Without his binder his body moved differently and when he felt his chest start to bounce Shoyo froze up. He didn’t enjoy the feeling at all. He wasn’t used to it.

“Shit,” Kageyama hissed when he seemed to realize what Shoyo had reacted to. He gave him a moment to calm down, the fingers on his hips once again caressing the skin gently.

“Okay, I got it,” he suddenly said and Shoyo only had time to open his eyes before he yelped. It was unexpected and a bit jarring to suddenly be manhandled onto his stomach but Shoyo quickly caught onto Kageyama’s idea. Grabbing one of the pillows he shoved it underneath himself just in time before Kageyama pushed inside again.

“You good?” he asked behind him, waiting until Shoyo nodded eagerly before he continued.

This worked.

The fact that Kageyama seemed to be able to go even deeper with the new position wasn’t a disadvantage either.

“Thanks,” Shoyo got out between moans, closing his eyes to enjoy it, trying to forget the panic he felt a second ago. Kageyama’s hands grabbed his ass, squeezing and groping, Shoyo distracted by the mix of amusement and pleasure he felt.

***-***-***

Kageyama ended up getting a text from his mother saying she would be gone by Sunday as well, sending money over the phone for him to order food.

Shoyo hadn’t planned to stay over another night but decided to do so anyway. Kageyama said it was annoying he would have to share his breakfast again but Shoyo could tell he was thankful, expressed in his own way. While it seemed like Kageyama had always been a loner by choice Shoyo soon realized Kageyama had grown dependent on him, probably unexpected by them both. He never said so out loud but it was clear his irritation when Shoyo couldn’t come over was worse than when Shoyo did. The energy behind his words was different, Shoyo having learned how to interpret it. When Kageyama was angry-annoyed Shoyo could laugh but when he was depressed-annoyed Shoyo didn’t know what to do.

Kageyama’s inability to show happiness probably said a lot about his childhood.

In the end they spent the majority of the day playing volleyball at the park, perfecting tosses, passes and receives since they didn’t have a net.

When it got dark outside they went back home and ordered pizza. Sometime after the clock ticked past eight Kageyama somehow seemed tense about something but was clearly too proud and awkward to ask. Shoyo gave in and dragged him back upstairs to the bedroom, getting to hold his hand at least half of the way.

Shoyo felt like he needed to catch up, no, he wanted to. He knew increased libido was a side effect of the hormones he received but this may or may not be one of his new favorite activities. Like he and Kageyama had agreed; ‘Probably not better than volleyball but certainly not worse.’

***-***-***

It was a little awkward at times and everything wasn’t as straightforward as volleyball though. Shoyo had things he didn’t like and so did Kageyama. But they worked through it as they got to know each other better, on a level Shoyo hadn’t thought he would.

It was a recent development of Shoyo’s life, but something he spent a lot of time on. Not so much doing, perhaps, but definitely time spent on thinking about it.

A blessing in disguise was that Kageyama’s mom worked a lot and wasn’t always home. It was a bit difficult to watch his friend’s reaction to her absence and sort of explained a few things considering how it must’ve affected his upbringing. But to Shoyo it was also an advantage since they could almost always spend time at his place.

Kageyama didn’t seem to mind because he never said no when Shoyo asked if he could hang out at his place after school. Kageyama also didn’t seem to mind because he learned how to fuck Shoyo without his bed slamming into the wall with every thrust. Kageyama lastly didn’t seem to mind because he suddenly wasn’t as angry all the time anymore.

“Sexual healing, I’m telling you,” Shoyo said, pointing his spoon at him. They were seated in Kageyama’s kitchen eating breakfast. It was a Wednesday so they had school in about an hour. They had, for once, gone home together with the goal of studying. They got most of it done but when Kageyama had to constantly adjust himself in the middle of solving a math problem Shoyo couldn’t take it anymore.

“You’re just saying that cause it’s a song, idiot,” Kageyama pointed out, shoveling more cereal in his mouth.

“Well, sexual therapy then,” Shoyo shrugged. The setter still used the same old beautiful language but he wasn’t as tense, as angry. The team had even noticed but perhaps not with opposite effect as a result. The poor first years were frightened to their cores when they didn’t receive a slap to their heads after screwing up or throwing balls at Kageyama.

***-***-***

Sugawara was at their next game, cheering for them in the stands. When they celebrated at Ukai’s later he held up his and his girlfriend Ishizu’s hand, Shoyo realizing that she was a lot more than his girlfriend now.

Congratulations were passed around and when Shoyo headed home the same way Sugawara and his fiance did they talked a bit about Kageyama.

“He’s not as uptight. First I thought something was wrong or that he was ill or whatever,” Sugawara thought aloud and Shoyo laughed, holding onto his bike as he walked.

“The first years were terrified the first time he complimented them on something. Kaito’s block is really good but he still freezes everytime Kageyama gives him a thumbs up.”

“Ah, Kageyama grew up, I guess,” Sugawara dramatically reminisced to the sky.

“Everybody does,” His fiance pointed out, “It just takes time and there’s usually a change in the pattern that’s needed, but it’s different for everyone. Kōshi’s not nearly as altruistic as he was before, for eample.”

“She wants me to be more selfish,” Sugawara rolled his eyes. “I don’t see how that’s a good thing.”

“For you it totally is,” Shoyo grinned.

“Right?” His fiance exclaimed, Shoyo accepting the high five when she held out her hand.

***-***-***

As he stood in front of the bathroom mirror Shoyo picked up the athletic tape he'd bought, throwing it and catching it in his hands a couple times. The color was white, not the most discreet but also not bright blue or pink like the other types they had on the rack at the store. This type of tape wasn't the same brand as the one his doctor had showed him but then again, this one also went on the body... so it should work just as well. Right?

They were all just as damn expensive so it had to be the same shit, Shoyo figured. 

Following a low resolution video of some guy who didn't seem to completely know what he was doing Shoyo attempted to get it right, hissing when the tape pulled on the skin around his chest. The tape was sticking to itself, sticking to Shoyo and even getting caught in his hair at one point.

When he lowered his arms in exhaustion Shoyo stared at himself in silence, still not sure about the finished result. He was so used to his binder shoving everything inside for nothing to be shown. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes for a couple seconds, counting forwards, backwards, focusing on calming down. The back of his hand braced the cold sink in front of him, his fingers trailing the ceramic as he collected himself. 

Though, just like he now felt naked without his binder the familiar but unwanted constricting feeling wasn't there. Giving it a last chance he put his shirt back on, turning side to side to examine his profile. As he started swinging his arms a little a shy smile slowly grew on his face.

With his shirt on... it wasn't so bad.

The feeling of fabric against his mostly naked chest was scary, especially since he was considering leaving the house like this. Shoyo never left his house without the compressing piece of fabric he almost felt like was a part of his body. 

But this wasn't so bad. It could work. At least during practice or long days when his body was starting to ache. 

Then again, this was Shoyo and it was his first time trying this. He learned that day that apparently the part about protecting his nipples _before putting on the athletic tape_ was important. 

***-***-***

“Ugh, I hate that gross stuff,” Kinoshita mumbled, voice lowered and words unarticulated.

Shoyo heard him anyway.

“What?” Nishinoya asked, turning around to look at the other player.

“That shit,” Kinoshita pointed towards the screen.

“My mom said they want to remove the penalty for pedophiles,” Eisuke agreed, the first year usually pretty quiet.

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Kinoshita laughed in disgust.

They were sprawled out on the floor in the gym watching their own match against Aoba Johsai, uploaded to Youtube by Tanaka’s sister. She always put on the ads to make a bit of money from the bother of recording them, she said.

It meant ads and with Tokyo Pride apparently coming up the one playing was from the event.

Shoyo stared at the rainbow flag, keeping quiet.

“What the fuck do you mean? That makes no sense.”

Turning his head he realized it was Tanaka who had spoken. He felt his pulse quicken, unknowingly staying as still as possible, probably to blend in as much as possible.

“I’m just saying, man. Two guys doing it makes me wanna throw up,” Kinoshita said, holding up his hands to show he was waving the white flag, yet his words hit like stabs.

“But you’re okay with two girls or what?” Tanaka asked.

“Well yeah man, I’m a guy,” Kinoshita chuckled. “I mean I don’t want them to marry but I don’t mind it in magazines.”

“That’s really hypocritical though,” Nishinoya pointed out.

Yamaguchi who was closest to the laptop paused the video even when the ad was over, watching his teammates with a worried face.

“I’m not religious but I just think it’s unnatural. It’s how we procreate and evolve, right? A man and woman. No other animals do it t-”

“Animals are gay too,” Kageyama said, everyone looking his way in surprise. He shrugged at their eyes but Shoyo could tell he was tensing from the attention. “I saw it in a documentary.”

“Well shit, I’m sorry for just giving my opinion,” Kinoshita surrendered, realizing he was on the losing side of the argument. Perhaps he had expected everyone to just agree with him. To be fair Shoyo had thought some would. Eisuke was now completely silent since he’d spoken.

“Sharing your opinion is fine but lying about shit is seriously douchey,” Tanaka continued, having turned around to fully face Kinoshita and Eisuke.

The atmosphere had turned completely upside down. They had been cheering and praising each other a minute ago when they watched the match’s highlights of their goals. Everyone had been laughing when Shoyo slipped on the ball two thirds into the match too, everything caught on camera.

Now it was almost silent apart from their voices. The gym didn’t feel warm anymore, the electricity of a fight waiting to happen crackling in the air.

“What, are you gay Tanaka?”

Shoyo held his breath.

“No, I’m not,” Tanaka replied, much more calmly than Shoyo had expected. “But I know someone who is and I’m going to join her in the parade because I agree with her it’s a human right.”

His voice seemed to echo in the hall, Shoyo forcing himself to move. Just sitting up felt like he was calling attention to himself but no one looked at him. Not even Kageyama.

“I’m sorry, Tanaka,” Eisuke apologized, his face red.

“Yeah, sure. Sorry man. I mean I won’t say I agree with you… but I won’t talk about it,” Kinoshita added.

The next second the door opened and Ukai came back after his smoke break, raising his eyebrows at the silence that greeted him.

“What’s going on? Why aren’t you watching the match?”

“Just clearing up some shit,” Tanaka replied, gesturing for Yamaguchii to press play again. Kinoshita looked a little pale, pretending to act normal as he busied himself with the ball in front of him. Eisuke looked like he wanted to sink through the floor and Tanaka was clearly still boiling.

The rest of practice was awful. Ukai was annoyed at everyone’s bad performance and the few good shots and receives they did were awkwardly praised.

Tanaka was on cleaning duty and both Shoyo and Kageyama indiscreetly hung around, trying to act inconspicuous.

Shoyo was busy collecting the balls when Tanaka sighed loudly, standing next to him with the mop.

“I went too hard on them, didn’t I?” he asked.

“Uh… I, uh, I don’t know- I mean, no, I don’t think I think so,” Shoyo replied, surprised by the sudden reveal. It wasn’t what he expected Tanaka to say.

“He was in the wrong though… and those kind of comments pisses me off!” Tanaka groaned, dramatically scrubbing the floor even harder in frustration.

“Tanaka, I’m- I think I’m gay.”

Both Shoyo and Tanaka turned to Kageyama who stood up on the balcony, tasked with fetching the ball he had gotten stuck in the railing with a particularly hard hit earlier.

Shoyo unknowingly gaped at him.

“Uh, okay,” Tanaka said, scratching the back of his head. “That’s cool.”

A silence fell over the room.

The ball cart squeaked as Shoyo moved it over.

“Like, I support my sister but I’m not an expert on that stuff. I just read the posters and leaflets, other than what she tells me.”

“That’s fine!” Kageyama exclaimed, “I’ve done some research.”

“Is that how you learned about the gay pinguins?” Shoyo asked, looking up at him.

Kageyama didn’t reply but rolled his eyes, tugging the ball free to toss it down to Shoyo.

“Well if you want to join us in the parade you can, I guess,” Tanaka said, looking a little clueless.

“No thank you,” Kageyama firmly replied.

“ _Ball is life,_ ” Shoyo mouthed in silence to Tanaka, the third’s laughter finally echoing in the gym again.

***-***-***

With the lights of the gym being turned off the school was dark around them, only a couple lamps here and there to shine in the night. Shoyo could spot some of the teacher’s offices still being lit, wondering if some people were working late or if they’d forgotten to turn off the lights.

The streets outside were mostly empty as they walked home, Shoyo eating a banana while awkwardly trying to steer his bike with one hand and an elbow.

“You didn’t say anything,” Kageyama reflected, riding his bike in the same speed of Shoyo’s walking, sometimes going on ahead to turn back around, clearly restless.

“To Tanaka?” Shoyo asked, mouth still full of banana.

“Well, no but when we were watching the video.”

“I don’t really care about that stuff,” Shoyo admitted after swallowing. He took the last bite, throwing the peel in his basket before getting on.

“But doesn’t it sorta concern you?”

“You mean the transsexual stuff?”

“Isn’t it transgender?” Kageyama was the one to ask.

“Is it?” Shoyo hummed. “See? I don’t know this stuff. Like, to me it’s a part of my life but it’s… it’s not a hobby.”

He got the impression Kageyama was considering his words for a moment.

“So… you don’t walkt to talk about it?”

Shoyo pursed his lips. “I don’t mind talking about it, at least not with people I trust. Even though you’re a big dummy I trust you, for example,” Shoyo said, winking at Kageyama. The setter rolled his eyes.

“But… I don’t know. I just want to live my life. I wanna play volleyball and win games, not get into activism and stuff. It’s not like I ignore the trans part about myself, it’s just that I… really don’t think about it. ”

Kageyama slowly nodded but Shoyo could tell he wasn’t completely understanding.

“I mean, I obviously think about my testosterone shots when I get them and, like, I often dream about how it would’ve been had I been born in the right body. But I’m… good, as I am, right now. I’m okay,” Shoyo smiled. “And I guess I have to give you some credit to that too.”

***-***-***

It seemed like Kageyama hadn’t completely dropped the issue though.

“Aren’t you worried about… if you get to play? Professionally?” he continued when they were back at his home, lazing around his room. His mother was downstairs in a work call while making nikujaga with vegetables. Shoyo admired her multitasking abilities. His own mother, on the other hand, got frustrated just watching the tv while knitting at the same time.

“Of course I am,” Shoyo frowned.

“You don’t like thinking about it, I get it. But wouldn’t it feel better to consider all possibilities and plan a solution for each of them?”

Shoyo snorted.

“That’s what you do on court when you’re up against a shifty opponent, isn’t it? ‘Consider all possibilities and plan a solution for each of them’… “

“It’s necessary. I hate feeling lost and just going with the flow,” Kageyama said and crossed his arms.

“And I love it. It’s my favorite thing,” Shoyo said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“It’s sorta what the freak-quick was, to be fair,” Kageyama hummed.

Shoyo looked down at his fingers. His nails were uneven, his fingers cut and and scratched from when he was being a clumsy idiot, as Kageyama often reminded him.

Truth was Shoyo was too scared to find out some new update had been made that wouldn’t let him play, or something. It had been a while since he last checked.

“I know that the guidelines aren’t very clear on it,” Shoyo finally muttered. “They’re sorta not decided yet. Some countries have gotten a bit further. Like, I know who Tifanny Abreu is. She played for the women’s team in Brazil. But uh, I guess I’m lucky I’m a guy and not the other way because the trans women have it harder. It’s like, biology and science is on my side when it comes to proof that trans- that it’s a real thing. But it’s against me when it comes to sports. AndI … I understand the trouble. Men’s and women’s bodies are different and all surgeries and hormones in the world might not be enough to change that, not 100%.”

“...And on the other hand I’m in trouble,” Shoyo moved his hands to his other side, gesturing as he spoke. “Because I get testosterone shots. So am I doping? I read some stuff about it and you need to have some papers as proof and stuff.”

Kageyama opened his laptop as Shoyo spoke, starting to type. Shoyo sighed but waited for him, resting his head in his hand.

The TV was on in the background, some game show flashing in bright colors, the sound half-muted since they switched to the serious conversation.

“Okay, I think I found it. The… wait, okay. The purpose of this medical information is to define the criteria for granting a Thera-whatever for the treatment with substances on the Prohibited List to transgender athletes. It is not the purpose of this medical information to define the criteria for the eligibility of these athletes to participate in competitive sport, which is entirely left to… the different sporting federations and organizations.”

Shoyo waited for him to continue, having already known that.

“It, uh, says it has to be monitored,” Kageyama read. “It must be recorded by a end-endocrinologist?”

“Yeah, that’s the type of doctor I had to see first,” Shoyo said, picking up the volleyball in Kageyama’s room to play with.

“You take shots right? With a syringe?” the setter asked, scrolling.

“Mhm,” Shoyo nodded, spinning the ball in both hands.

“So you’re eligible, I guess. If the sports organization is cool with it.”

“Just that _tiny_ little obstacle,” Shoyo sighed.

Kageyama did some quiet clicking and typing but Shoyo knew he wouldn’t find anything online. The V.League hadn’t said anything last year when Shoyo checked and he doubted they’d updated it since.

***-***-***

“Hey, are we dating?” Shoyo dared to ask the following Friday, lying beside him in bed. Kageyam’s mother was still downstairs watching the tv, Shoyo keeping his voice to a whisper.

To his surprise Kageyama had been the one to convince Shoyo to sleep in the same bed as him when he stayed over during the days Kageyama’s mom was home. He blamed it on the hassle of having to get out the futon but Shoyo was pretty sure he just enjoyed the closeness. Nonetheless Shoyo was the only one who seemed a bit embarrassed by the possibility of Kageyama’s mother walking in on the two sharing a bed.

At the time Kageyama had just given him a blank face and a “ _why_?”

“Hmm…,” the setter now hummed, considering Shoyo’s question. “But then we’d have to go on dates, right? Remember Sugawara had to go to that pottery class he hated? Because Ishizu wanted to… I don’t want to have to spend time at stuff like that.”

Shoyo frowned. “Me neither.”

Kageyama was facing Shoyo, lying on his side while the shorter was on his back.

“No dating then,” they both agreed.

“You just love sex, don’t you?” Shoyo whispered, snickering.

“Says you,” Kageyama dismissed, “I wasn’t the one reaching into my pants in the supply closet last week.”

“Well, I mean. We were the only ones left and like… your cock is a lot nicer than you are- See, I’m getting horny now!” Shoyo exclaimed before pushing his ass back against Kageyama who instantly hissed, grabbing hold of Shoyo.

“My mom is home, stop!” he whispered harshly, Shoyo covering his mouth to quiet his own laughter.

And if Shoyo managed to convince Kageyama to finger him in the middle of the night was he really to blame? When he licked his way in between Kageyama’s lips and pushed his tongue against his, the setter certainly didn’t seem to complain.

***-***-***

Shoyo felt like his third year went by the quickest. They won the Nationals with Yamaguchi as captain, Shoyo got his first A on a test and in early May old Ukai passed away.

The loss came as a shock but the funeral a week later was beautiful. There were sunflowers everywhere and Ukai’s youngest students sat in the back sniffling the entire ceremony. Shoyo held Kageyama’s hand when one of Ukai’s friend’s daughter sang a beautiful song about flying.

***-***-***

On Shoyo’s 18th birthday he submitted a document to the authorities and a month later he was officially known as Shoyo Hinata. When Kageyama showed up with a birthday gift containing two cans of pain reliever spray and a new tracksuit Shoyo cried.

“Does it feel better now that this piece of plastic says M?” Kageyama asked while holding it up, raising an eyebrow at the wide-eyed Shoyo in the photo.

“Yes,” Shoyo cried and laughed at the same time, Kageyama sighing at the mess he was making with his tears and snot.

***-***-***

Graduation was a hassle and both of them had to spend the summer studying rather than practicing volleyball. On hot days they were stuck inside the classroom reading themselves dizzy on math formulas and English grammar while the nights were spent inaugurating Kageyama’s new bed since his old one mysteriously broke. Shoyo had nothing to do with that, of course.

When Kageyama received his first letter from one of the professional volleyball teams no one was particularly surprised. When he received his 7th Shoyo wasn’t sure what to say anymore.

“I’m going on ahead,” Kageyama had smirked.

Shoyo decided on beach volleyball and when his passport came in the mail Shoyo didn’t even look twice at the little letter M under gender.

As he spent his last night with Kageyama for a good while Shoyo held him as they fell asleep. He didn’t kiss him when he left in the morning because they weren’t dating after all. He got Kageyama to promise to text him often and always reply but Shoyo didn’t have the heart to ask if he was going to find new people to fuck now that Shoyo was leaving.

Shoyo flew to Rio a week later with only one suitcase and a backpack. It was his first time on a plane and the business woman beside him seemed annoyed enough to clear her throat everytime Shoyo snapped a picture out the window or awed at the view.

His roommate Pedro was a little awkward but Shoyo learned to understand him with time, just like Portugese. Beach volleyball was tricky but to Shoyo it was just another thing to master. He was on the other side of the world. What couldn’t he do?

The world came crashing down on August 3rd.

A rainy Friday and Shoyo was looking forward to his practice tomorrow, humming tunes as he made his deliveries around his area of town he worked in. He knew most streets inside out by now and a few regulars even greeted him by name. Maria with the large garden always ordered sushi, at least twice weekly. Antonio and Carlos always tried to invite Shoyo for beers when he delivered their pizza. He kindly declined each time. Aline was learning Japanese and Shoyo always let her talk with him for a minute. Sometimes Shoyo asked for words in Portugese and she was always happy to explain. When she asked him for a date Shoyo spluttered a half-assed decline. She didn’t seem to take it that bad though and made him promise to still keep delivering to her. She sometimes whined a little about Shoyo turning her down but it was all fun and games. Aline was about to turn fifty after all.

On his way to her place on August 3rd with a delivery of Thai food Shoyo took a corner and the van speeding through a red light didn’t even have time to stop.

***-***-***

When Shoyo woke up he asked what day it was. The nurse informed him it was the 6th.

Which meant the Japan’s volleyball match against Russia in the Olympics was yesterday.

Shoyo got to watch the match on his phone after the nurse gave him the wifi password. When Kageyama appeared on the screen Shoyo sobbed even as he grinned wide. He showed the screen to his nurse and said “That’s my friend.”

His left arm was in a cast and his ribs wrapped in bandage. The van’s driver was okay but pretty banged up too. Shoyo hadn’t really gotten to know who he was but from what he understood the man had been in a hurry to get to work.

The nurse explained everything about the surgery they had done on his arm, speaking slowly while the japanese interpreter translated over the phone. She had probably learned Japanese through anime or something Shoyo guessed as he listened to her pronunciation of words like _‘bone fracture’_ and _‘arm brace’_.

He ultimately wasn’t allowed to wear his binder for a month either, considering the broken ribs he had. They would heal on their own but Shoyo couldn’t put pressure on them.

“At least it’s not my legs,” Shoyo told his mother who sat next to the hospital bed. She hadn’t been able to afford the first flight to Brazil and instead arrived after Shoyo had woken up. When she cried he promised her it was okay.

Japan got fifth place in the Olympics, the spot shared with Poland, Iran and Canada. Kageyama had been the best player on the Japanese National team, in Shoyo’s opinion.

He was amazing.

Shoyo didn’t know who had ratted him out to Kageyama though. All Shoyo has said since waking up from the accident was that he couldn’t meet up because of reasons, even though they were both in Rio on the other side of the world.

So when Shoyo was back in his apartment after being released from the hospital there was a knock on the door. Shoyo had been busy packing his bag one-armed, making sure to get all the souvenirs with him. Pedro would have to find a new roommate sooner than expected now since Shoyo had to go home half a year earlier than expected. He couldn’t work nor practice with his arm in a cast anyway.

“It’s unlocked, mom,” he yelled. She had gotten the mission to buy them dinner for the evening since their flight was tomorrow.

When Tobio Kageyama walked inside Shoyo nearly fell off the chair. Luckily he caught himself with his good arm just in time, the chair rattling.

For not the first time that day Shoyo felt his eyes water, the tears threatening to fall. The hug was nice, gentle but warm, firm. Kageyama didn’t squeeze his left arm but held Shoyo close, probably a little longer than allowed for friends.

Kageyama didn’t say a lot and was mostly just blabbering and mumbling.

When Pedro walked into the apartment he didn’t say much apart from greeting Kageyama with a handshake and some broken English. Hadn’t Shoyo been in the middle of making out with one of Japan’s best volleyball players he probably would’ve insisted Pedro greet Kageyama in Japanese.

He was a little occupied being frozen on the spot, still shocked at being caught.

“Like, so many people are gay here,” Pedro said in Portugese when Shoyo only continued to stare at him. Kageyama looked like he needed to sit down.

When Shoyo’s mother returned she made a makeshift stir fry for all three boys and there was not even a single rice grain left afterwards.

Maybe his mother knew something, maybe she did not, but she still gave him and Kageyama a moment before he had to leave. She gave Kageyama a long hug first, congratulating him on his amazing work in the Olympics. Shoyo was pretty sure she hadn’t seen all of his plays apart from the one he showed her on his laptop earlier, but that wasn’t relevant.

She closed the door to Shoyo’s bedroom after that and Pedro was shut inside his since dinner was over.

When Shoyo let his head rest on Kageyama’s chest he instantly felt better. The taste of almost authentic japanese food was on his tongue and the scent of his favorite setter in his nose. Sure, his arm was in a sling and his ribs still hurt but those things would heal.

“I missed your scent,” Kageyama whispered into his hair and Shoyo found himself genuinely smiling for the first time since the 3rd of August.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! ♡


	4. Chapter 4

The sun was setting outside the window of the apartment, located in Minamidai, Nanako City. It took 20 minutes by subway to the center of Tokyo but more importantly it was only 5 minutes on bike to the grand Nakano Volleyball Gym.

The setter of one of Japan’s V.League 1 teams had lived there for two months, the apartment still bare of personal objects. The walls were a dark and desaturated blue color, the cabinets and furniture square and spotless. A massive cactus stood by one of the south facing windows, a climbing plant on the kitchen counter gifted by his mother. It was, surprisingly, still alive.

Shoyo was stretched out on the couch, flipping through the tv channels. It was one of those paper thin, curved tvs, the screen larger than the dining table. His tea was long forgotten on the coffee table, most likely cold by now.

The noise of the door unlocking had Shoyo waking up a bit, stretching his arms above his head.

Dressed in a brand tracksuit, brand sneakers and brand sunglasses was Tobio Kageyama. He dropped his duffel bag on the floor and kicked off his shoes while removing his cap, the one he had worn for years, perhaps the only non-brand part of his outfit today.

“Did you order food?” he asked.

“Hello to you too, Tobio” Shoyo hummed, smiling at his upside view of the setter.

“Hey,” Tobio replied, walking up to brush his fingers through Shoyo’s wild hair, a contrast in color to the rest of the dull interior.

Most of it had come with the place and Tobio didn’t own too many personal objects in the first place. His mother had helped to pick out some of the furniture and while the large, grey couch was a good purchase Tobio’s favorite piece was the drawer in his bedroom. It was second hand and a little worn out, made of some sort of stained wood. Shoyo had found it second hand and bought it for him. Apparently the round metal knobs reminded him of volleyballs.

“And yeah, I ordered earlier,” Shoyo said, having closed his eyes as the fingers moved through his hair. Tobio took the moment to smile down at him.

“Good. How’s the headache?”

“It’s better now,” Shoyo replied, opening his eyes to glare at Tobio when the hand in his hair disappeared.

He disappeared for a moment, maybe to charge his phone, and Shoyo scooted over to the edge of the couch in the hope that Tobio would be up for some afternoon gay cuddling. It was Friday after all; time to be wild.

“You showered at the gym, right?” Shoyo asked, waving for the other when he appeared again.

“Yeah. Hoshiumi wanted me to stay behind though. And he asked for you again,” Tobio said, zipping up his jacket to throw it over the back of the couch, wearing a simple white t-shirt underneath. Shoyo would bet a million yen it was a brand one too.

“At this point I feel like Hoshiumi wants to hang with me more than you do,” Shoyo said, sighing as Tobio took the spot behind him and the couch, throwing an arm around his waist.

“I only turned him down cause I was gonna go home for curry,” Tobio deadpanned, Shoyo turning around to show him he was rolling his eyes. On the way he grabbed the jacket to throw over his arms, snuggling in close to Tobio.

“You cold?”

“How do you know I ordered curry though? Maybe I ordered some healthy… German food,” Shoyo replied. “And just a little, I took a bath earlier. Helped with the head too.”

“I doubt you can name even one German dish,” Tobio snorted, closing his eyes. Shoyo supposed he was tired after an entire day of practice.

“P… paella.”

“Is that German?” Tobio asked, raising an eyebrow but keeping his eyes closed. Shoyo moved closer, nose against his shirt, immediately relaxing from the familiar scent.

“Probably,” Shoyo replied, positive Tobio didn’t know either.

They spent a couple minutes nestled up on the couch, Shoyo hogging both blankets since he was still a bit chilly from just laying around the entire day. Tobio was exhausted from practice, on the other hand, and was starting to snore off.

The doorbell rang and Shoyo decided to go get it. He was still not completely used to the door and alarm mechanism, remembering to press the button before throwing the door open. He may or may not have set it off _twice_ already since Tobio moved into the place.

“Do you want to continue the game, by the way?” Tobio asked when they were finishing up the dinner, sprawled out on the couch.

“Maybe not right now,” Shoyo said, letting Tobio take his food container too before heading into the kitchen. The curry place they ordered from always did really big portions and while Shoyo was the one with the big appetite there was still enough leftovers to eat tomorrow. Two meals from the cost of one.

“Want to fuck?” Tobio tried instead, scratching his head.

Shoyo crawled up against the corner of the couch, placing his hands in his lap.

Taking a last moment to reconsider Shoyo shook his head, making up his mind for good. He finally opened his mouth to confess what he’d planned to say all week long.

“Tobio… I don’t think I want to play volleyball anymore.”

Shoyo watched his face, waiting for a reaction. He had braced himself for disappointment, maybe an angry scolding but instead Tobio sat down beside him again, frowning at Shoyo.

“And why is that?” he asked instead.

Shoyo looked down at his left arm, dragging a hand over it. His cast was gone since a month and his ribs were long healed, just a little sore. Shoyo only wore his binder when he needed to, his stock of athletic tape fuller than ever.

“I still love it, don’t worry. I still want to play but… maybe not competitively.”

The serene mood from earlier was now gone, Shoyo’s face one of sadness, Tobio’s of worry.

“Are you doubting your skills?” he asked, trying to figure out the cause of the sudden decision.

“No. I know I’m good.”

Tobio knew that too. While Tobio held a higher count of invite letters from the professional leagues Shoyo had also gotten some. Not all were invites to play for the teams of course, but some for practice and such. Shoyo had still prioritized Rio though. It was a chance he might’ve not gotten again. No one could have anticipated it all to end the way it did.

The letters were still at home though, back in his room. Shoyo was unpredictable yet resourceful on the court and thus sought after. On the other hand he hadn’t played since he got back from Rio, at least no more than a couple practice matches when he joined Kageyama and his team at the gym.

But Shoyo was tired.

And he had read the yearly report from the National Japanese Volleyball Organization, the moment they put it out on their website the other day. He had searched the document with ctrl+F but there were no mentions of “transgender” or anything similar. At first it seemed like a relief because maybe there were exceptions after all.

However, as Shoyo scrolled through the protocol he found the paragraph.

_‘Players eligible to apply for V.League 1 teams are Japanese citizens (for international players see attachment), limited to male-born men and female-born women (see 3a).’_

Where as the little ‘3a’ footnote read;  
_‘NJVBO does not recognize the Descrimination Act as of now.’_

Shoyo supposed the organization had at least taken the time to vote on the question after all, considering they felt the need to clarify with a restriction. He knew one of the democratic parties had sent out a suggestion for organisations and companies to clarify their stand on transgender excemptions. He supposed this was the volleyball organisation's reply.

Shoyo looked back up at Tobio. “But I feel like I can do something else.”

Tobio seemed to think his words over but he was still visibly upset, obviously conflicted. Shoyo forced himself to smile, to try to convince Tobio he had already made up his mind, that he was fine with this choice. Tobio didn’t need to worry about the main reason behind Shoyo’s decision.

“I wanted to play against you,” he admitted and Shoyo felt something tug at his heart.

“We can still play, you and I. But… officially? I don’t think that’s going to happen, Tobio. I’m sorry,” Shoyo said, biting his lip.

They sat in silence for a moment, Shoyo waiting patiently. He wasn’t too surprised Tobio hadn’t really asked why. He had prepared a couple more possible replies but his injury was a sour topic, one Tobio didn’t bring up a lot. Back when Shoyo had squeezed into a binder earlier than he was allowed to, by his doctor that was, they’d had a huge argument.

With a sigh Shoyo wiggled down onto the couch to lay down. When Tobio instantly crawled over he didn’t turn him down but instead let him rest his head on his chest, right under his chin. A year ago Shoyo might’ve pushed him away, considering Shoyo was only in a t-shirt. Now he simply reached down to play with Tobio’s hair, running his fingers through the black strands, caressing the skin on his nape.

“You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?” Tobio asked after a minute, eyes watching the muted TV. It was the only lightsource in the apartment apart from the warm, fading sunlight, the sun probably gone behind the tall skyscrapers.

“Mhm, a little,” Shoyo hummed. “It’s a bit of studying first but I was thinking of maybe sports reporter or maybe teaching volleyball instead. Maybe for middle schoolers or high school students.”

“You can’t teach high school students when you look like a middle schooler, dummy,” Tobio pointed out.

“Oi,” Shoyo harshly tugged on his hair, Tobio half-sitting up with a grimace of pain. After he grabbed his arm to get free he pushed Shoyo back down onto the cushions. When Tobio leaned over him for an apology kiss Shoyo immediately forgave him.

“Mmm… didn’t the newspapers say you had an actor girlfriend?” Shoyo asked, voice muffled between kisses. He was trying to get some space to speak but with no success. Tobio followed him, pushing him into the couch every time.

When they fell asleep that night Shoyo held Kageyama, tracing patterns on his back and curling his fingers in his hair again. Shoyo couldn’t sleep and spent the time looking around the bedroom.

The walls were the same blue, the bed practically massive. It was one of the only thing Tobio had actively spent time and attention on when purchasing. The windows weren’t as large in this room as the living room, but with the curtains always closed it didn’t matter much. Shoyo glanced at the second hand dresser in the corner, a couple pictures blu tacked to the wall above it. There was the Kurasuno year one, two and three pictures. Shoyo had convinced Tobio to get into a photobooth with him once, most of the images depicting expressions of scowls and in Shoyo’s case childish grimaches.

The hallway outside had a wide ceiling window which had entertained Shoyo for a good couple minutes the first time it rained outside. The smog around Tokyo was a little too thick for them to see the stars but the rain was pretty too. He hadn’t been able to convince Tobio to lie with him on the floor and watch but Shoyo would try again next time.

The apartment was one Tobio’s league supplied for him so he could be closer to Tokyo for practice and plays. Before Shoyo got back to Japan after Rio the two had discussed to share an apartment in Sendai, the largest city in Miyagi. They would still be close to their parents but not too far from civilisation. Plus, it was only a 2 hour train ride to Tokyo. But with the accident in Rio things got off track and Shoyo ended up staying back home with his parents for a month. When Tobio was offered the Minamidai apartment it was his best option. Another sports player from a connected organization had lived here before his contract was up, Shoyo unable to remember if he played badminton or tennis.

Either way it worked for now. Tobio didn’t have to pay a lot for the apartment aside from a ridiculously cheap monthly fee, considering its size and location. But now that Shoyo was out of his cast he had to make up his mind on what to do. He was basically just freeloading and while he could tell Tobio didn’t seem to mind Shoyo was himself enough to know it wasn’t good.

His nurse had called it a depression episode. Shoyo wasn’t sure what that entailed but insisted he was fine. He assumed he would be fine again once he made up his mind, after all.

Apart from the grand size and high class Shoyo didn’t like the apartment that much though. It felt bare and cold even with the advanced floor heating system. The shapes were all square and straight; impersonal. Again, Tobio hadn’t put up a lot of stuff since he didn’t own much in the first place but the result was an accidental minimalistic design taken to the max. It looked modern, sure, but emotionless.

Tobio’s V.League contract ran for four years on paper, though Shoyo had no doubts it would be renewed. He was a damn good player and considering how hard he’d worked it made sense.

Shoyo wondered if he could still convince Tobio to come share an apartment in Sendai with him. Of course there was the first step of deciding what to do. Hiding away from the world everyday didn’t help anyone, especially not himself, not now when he no longer had an injury to blame it on.

Turning over in bed Shoyo watched Tobio’s relaxed face, chest rising with every deep breath.

But would they really be roommates?

Shoyo narrowed his eyes, a thought popping up in his head, waking him up.

Tobio had ignored the comment about the female actor. Shoyo had laughed when he saw the posts on Twitter. The two had been at some sort of charity gala party and ended up seated next to each other where someone caught them on camera. But not only did Tobio look the opposite of interested where she leaned in close to him, he also had no clue who she was when asked afterwards.

“She was asking me about romance movies or something,” Tobio had said with a frown when Shoyo showed him the posts.

“She’s got pretty big tatas though. She’s clearly popular,” Shoyo noted, browsing through the pictures and people’s comments.

“Lucky for me I don’t like ‘big tatas’ then,” Tobio had rolled his eyes.

Staring up at the ceiling Shoyo frowned, thinking it over. He and Tobio had been in a physical relationship since high school. ‘Fuck buddies’ they had decided to name it after an awkward discussion and neither had ever called it anything differently. They had been apart for the longest amount of time during Shoyo’s exchange in Rio, even though it was cut short. When they first saw each other both had been so enveloped in emotions, both probably just glad Shoyo survived such a terrifying experience.

But now Shoyo was practically living with Tobio. Technically his address was still his parent’s house and he only stayed at Tobio’s because he was crashing over, right? Tobio had given him one of the spare keys since the place came with two but… How long had he been here now?

Almost two months, Shoyo counted. At first it had been a test to see how long it took until Tobio kicked him out.

Shoyo was starting to suspect that might not happen.

With a gasp Shoyo had a realization.

“Tobio, wake up. Tobio,” Shoyo turned over, shaking his body.

The setter blinking awake in a confused panic, looking around to locate himself.

“Wha-what’s going on?” he fumbled when he took in Shoyo’s expression.

“Tobio, I gotta ask you something serious,” Shoyo said, eyes wide.

“I’m gonna fucking kill y-”

“Are we dating?”

Tobio stared at him in disorientation as he tried to process the question, both mouth and eyes half open. After a moment of silence he fell back onto the pillow with a groan.

“I mean,” Shoyo murmured, “You haven’t kicked me out yet. And we’ve been doing this, doing each other I mean, for a long time now. You’re not fucking anyone else since we do it without a condom sometimes, right? And we both promised to say if we did since we don’t wanna catch anything… but you’re not dating anyone else, right? I mean I’m not- though I almost said yes to a 40 year old Brazilian woman last year-”

“What?” Tobio barked, rolling over to stare at Shoyo.

“I said almost. I didn’t,” Shoyo assured him. Tobio took a moment to sit up, glancing over Shoyo’s body to spot the alarm clock, reading the time. With a sigh he fell back down, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

“I’m not dating anyone else- and I’m not having sex with anyone either,” Tobio sighed. “I thought we were dating. Do you not want to?”

Shoyo felt his heart do a double take. “We are?” he gaped.

Tobio met his eyes and suddenly he didn’t seem so sure of himself, frowning a bit.

“But… for how long have we dated then?” Shoyo hurried to ask, still a little dazed.

“Considering you’re only accepting it now, a couple seconds I guess,” Tobio shrugged.

“No but when did you start thinking we were?” Shoyo pressed.

“Like, I don’t know? I think it was pretty clear I was pissed when you left for Brazil, dummy.”

“But when I said I would send pictures of Rio you said you’d block me,” Shoyo countered.

“I think I recall you saying you would send me one every damn minute,” Tobio corrected.

“Yeah, well, whatever. So what, you would say we’ve dated for… a year at least?”

“Sure,” Tobio said, rolling over. Shoyo could tell he was trying to be nonchalant about it.

A year.

Shoyo didn’t find any problem with that.

“What do you think of me then? Like, what do we call each other?”

“I don’t k-know, idiot,” Tobio barked, Shoyo smiling in amusement at his back.

“Boyfriend? Husbands?”

“We’re not married, stupid Shoyo!” Tobio turned around to smack him with his pillow, “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Wrestling away the weapon Shoyo pushed it back against the setter, trying to squish his face in return. “You gave me a keyring when I left!”

“A keyring of my team’s logo, not an engagement ring, dummy,” Tobio yelled, spluttering when his mouth was full of pillow.

“You’re the one who didn’t tell me we were dating, stupid To-” Shoyo argued, falling onto his back when he was pushed off.

Apparently 3AM had never been a better time for bed wrestling without any actual sex after both parties finally gained the knowledge they were dating all along.

***-***-***

Hoshiumi was almost bouncing on the spot when Shoyo walked onto the court beside Tobio the following Monday.

He was still wearing a compression arm wrap on his left arm and was supposed to ‘take it easy’ in his doctor’s words. Shoyo wasn’t sure if that meant he couldn’t play volleyball though, and if so he’d already long failed that long ago.

When Shoyo countered a particularly hard smash his arm only stung a bit but Tobio got worried enough to run under the net and check him over.

Ushijima stared at them in silence and it got a little awkward.

Not all of the team’s players and trainees were present and while more of them showed up as they day went on no one asked what Shoyo was doing there. He was allowed to practice since Tobio had brought him along, of course, but he didn’t receive his own pass to the gym nor was he probably not supposed to come along. He was obviously not compensated for practicing since he didn’t have a contract with the league nor was he officially working for them.

It was nice though. It was something to do, and it was time spent on moving his body which he always felt good doing.

The sports hall had a nice gym too, Tobio leaving to exercise when his PT told him to work on his back muscles. Shoyo stayed behind on the court and tossed some balls to Hoshiumi while they talked about, naturally, volleyball.

And when Tobio arrived roughly two hours later, hair sticky and shirt drenched in sweat, all Shoyo did was grin.

Out of habit Shoyo briefly washed off his armpits and feet while keeping his clothes on while Tobio took a shower. The locker room was empty apart from them but Shoyo wasn’t going to risk it. He was used to taking a proper shower when he got back home anyway.

He also wasn't close to being as drenched as Tobio, the setter whining about how sore he already felt.

“I could give you a massage,” Shoyo hummed, a smile still permanent on his face.

“What do you want?” Tobio asked suspiciously, turning around under the shower stream to look at him.

Shoyo smiled innocently as he glanced down his naked form before meeting his eyes again.

“I don’t know, you have something in mind?” he kindly asked.

***-***-***

“I think I’m too scared to do it,” Shoyo admitted, Dr. Kusama slowly nodding in front of him.

“That’s okay, Hinata. We’re here if you ever change your mind. It’s a big decision and definitely not one to be hurried.”

The doctor spun in his chair to face his computer once more. “If you want we can save your measurements and records though? They’ll be in the database if you decide to go through with it at a later stage.”

“Yeah, that’s- sure,” Shoyo agreed.

Dr. Kusama’s office was modern and well-designed. A colorful, curvy art piece of some sort placed in front of the window, the view probably half the cost of the room.

“I’m still glad you got something out of the consultation, Hinata. Our patients' happiness is everything we strive to achieve.”

“Sorry it sort of turned out to be a waste of time,” Shoyo apologized, both hands still grasping his knees. He still felt a little shaken.

“It was absolutely not a waste of time, don’t think that for a second. I’m glad you were brave enough to pull the rains and stop something you weren't comfortable with. It's an irreversible surgery after all.”

Shoyo still felt embarrassed as he left the office, stomach growling loudly in the elevator. He had skipped breakfast that morning because of the instructions, something to do with the anesthesia he was supposed to undergo. Now he had bailed right before the surgery and Shoyo kept thinking about how much he’d still be charged for everything. A use of money and of time, he thought.

He grabbed a chocolate bar from a vending machine before heading back.

The bus back home felt faster than normal, Shoyo wishing he had chosen to walk after all. He ended up getting off a stop before the street closer to Tobio’s apartment, spending the time walking home thinking about what to say.

Throwing him off track, however, was the state he found the kitchen in when he returned. The room was in absolute disarray, a pale mush of something hastily dried up with paper towels that were now scattered everywhere. The counter was a sticky mess but the floor suspiciously clean. There was an untouched pan on the stove too and Shoyo put the puzzle pieces together.

He called for Tobio after putting away his bag, a reply coming from the shower.

As he entered the bathroom Tobio had already stepped outside, still in all his naked glory with conditioner unmistakably still in his hair.

“You’re back early,” he said, worry on his face.

Shoyo tried to gave him a small reassuring smile but he could tell it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Did something happen? Are you okay?” Tobio asked, his voice failing him. He walked up to Shoyo to grab his shoulders, forcing him to meet his eyes.

“I’m okay,” Shoyo promised, turning Tobio back around by his arms to push him towards the shower again, the water still running inside.

“More importantly, why is the kitchen a war scene?” he asked as he shut the bathroom door. No one but them had a key to the apartment but it was a habit since living with his family. At least Shoyo didn't feel the need to lock the door. If anyone managed to break into Tobio’s apartment they might as well get the full show for their effort.

“I made some okonomiyaki but I dropped the bowl before I could even pour one in the pan,” Tobio grumbled.

“Sounds worse than me,” Shoyo chuckled.

“I’m good at cooking, I was just clumsy. You’re the type of person who would think it’s smart to double the oven’s heat and shorten the baking time to half.”

“It was one time. And how was I supposed to know they would just get black on the outside and stay soft on the inside?” Shoyo said as he unzipped his jeans, removing both pants, boxers and socks. He left his shirt on for a moment.

“Because you didn’t follow the recipe. It’s pancakes, idiot. It’s not that hard.”

Shoyo decided to quiet his boyfriend by finally removing his shirt. As expected Tobio’s eyes fell on his chest. He examined the lines of blue marker in silence for a second.

“What happened?” he then asked, voice much softer.

“I couldn’t,” Shoyo admitted.

Entering the shower he turned on the second jet of water for the back. Because of course the shower had two jets, it was a stupidly fancy apartment after all.

On the shelf were about ten bottles of a brand shampoo that was sponsoring some of the V.Laegue’s players. The contract didn’t force Tobio to exclusively use only them but since they got packages for free no one complained. While it seemed to work for Tobio, and surely smelled nice, Shoyo just thought it made his own hair frizzy. Tobio had accepted the deal in a heartbeat though. It was a ridiculous amount of money.

“Can I ask why?” he asked, lifting Shoyo’s chin with a finger so he could meet his eyes.

“I, uh… I guess I’m too much of a wuss? I’ve seen the before and after photos many times, you know. But the actual pictures of the operation and how my chest would look for… a while before it healed,” Shoyo said, shaking his head while he spoke. “I don’t think I can do it. At least not now… can you help me wash this off?”

Tobio nodded while Shoyo grabbed one of the multiple orange bottles, pouring shower gel into his hands. Hopefully the marker wasn’t too hard to get off.

“He also said I’ve got pretty small breasts too,” he added.

“You do,” Tobio agreed, accepting the bottle.

“I’m sorry,” Shoyo said, hesitantly meeting Tobio’s eyes above him as he lathered up his hands.

“Why are you apologizing?” Tobio frowned. With gentle hands he started on the lines just beneath Shoyo’s shoulders, his thumbs working out the liner. The first couple of times he always asked before touching Shoyo’s chest. The redhead had to insist he didn’t need to ask several times before Tobio finally listened.

“Well, I mean. Your gay ass is gonna have to stare at…” Shoyo trailed off, his joke falling flat before he could even try to finish it. When Tobio leaned down to kiss him he weakly replied, lifting his head.

“You know I don’t mind your chest, idiot,” Tobio sighed and he sounded genuinely angry. “If anything I’m pissed off you can’t get it through your thick head that I’ve kinda got a thing for you.”

“Mhm,” Shoyo hummed into the second kiss. “Would you like me if I had three arms and no legs though?”

“If we can get you in a wheelchair and roll you out onto the court to play with me, yes,” Tobio replied, Shoyo laughing loudly at the image in his head.

Damn, it felt good to laugh.

The blue marker was at least easy to wash off. Shoyo was still a bit distant in thought as he cleaned off the lines, remembering how it had felt when the doctor drew them on.

The consultation had cost a lot though and it had been Tobio’s birthday gift to Shoyo. Which he couldn’t blame him for at all; it made sense considering Shoyo had talked about it on so many occasions. Less so with the years though, especially since he broke his ribs and had to go without his binder.

It had been pretty challenging for their relationship at the time but when Tobio finally managed to convince Shoyo he didn’t care how his chest looked it had been like a new door opened. Suddenly Shoyo knew what if felt like to have his nipples played with when he let him, just like he had enjoyed doing to Tobio. Shoyo’s disdain to his own chest was one thing but Tobio had insisted he liked him just as he was.

Nonetheless, it was a lot of money and even though Tobio made _a lot_ since joining his league Shoyo had first declined simply because of the cost of the surgery. Eventually, when he was convinced to accept the gift, he had been too far along to really think about it. Again, Shoyo’s own dislike had him convinced Tobio might feel disgust too. That he gave it to him just because he wanted Thoyo to change too.

“Also,” Shoyo bit his lip, “Sorry I didn’t go through with your birthday gift-”

“Don’t even fucking say that,” Tobio interupted him, tugging Shoyo to hold him against his chest.

“I don’t feel guilty because I didn’t do it, don’t worry,” Shoyo promised, “I just mean… it was such a nice moment and everything. I honestly thought you were going to propose to me when you started nervously blabbering about the cost being unimportant, before you even said what the gift was.”

“I recall being refused when I actually proposed to you,” Tobio pointed out.

“To be fair you didn’t have a ring or anything,” Shoyo chuckled before turning around. Without having to say anything Tobio started massaging his shoulders, working on the muscles. He closed his eyes, glad the lights in the bathroom were already dimmed.

“But you said it wasn’t even the missing ring, nor the bad timing-”

“Ha! So you admit the timing was horrible too.”

“-Are you still going by your stubborn rule?”

“That I want to be the one to propose? Yes, it still stands. Every attempt you make will be denied,” Shoyo hummed.

Was it a bit childish? Probably. But Shoyo seemed to be the only one in their relationship with restrain when it came to early marriage, apparently. Tobio said he just wanted to get it over with but Shoyo suspected it was mostly because the setter had become a little possessive since Shoyo agreed to the dating situation.

Not that Shoyo would suddenly run off with a Mr. Smith, but truly because he thought marriage shouldn’t be done so hasty. They were still young and Tobio was in the limelight; if a sudden ring on his finger screwed with his career Shoyo would never be able to forgive himself.

“What if I did it in the middle of a game?” Tobio continued nonetheless, “Maybe at the next Internationals?”

“I would say no. In front of the entire audience,” Shoyo laughed. “And I’m pretty sure your coach would faint. Ushijima would probably decapitate you, right then and there in front of everyone.”

“Wouldn’t that be a sight?” Tobio hummed, snaking his arms around Shoyo to hold him close.

***-***-***

Shoyo spent roughly half a year “recovering from his accident”, still without giving an answer to the leagues that had asked for him. In reality he was pretty sure their initial invitations had probably expired. Not only because of the time that had passed but most likely since the accident. A couple Japanese papers had covered Shoyo’s accident, a few reporters even showing up at the airport when Shoyo arrived back home with his mother.

Not that the invitations really mattered anymore. Considering Shoyo found out half-way through his 6 months that the league wouldn’t want him anyway. It said so right there in the protocol, they only wanted ‘male-born men’.

So when Shoyo received a video call from Heitor Santana on Christmas eve things suddenly took a turn.

Heitor was his beach volleyball partner back in Brazil. They had kept contact on social media and while Shoyo didn’t always get the posts Heitor sent him Shoyo really liked their friendship.

When they facetimed on Christmas Shoyo tried to keep the conversation going in broken Portugese. He only had to switch to English when he felt lost or he was ‘hmm’-ing for too long.

It turned out Heitor had taken his wife Nice’s last name and was now Heitor Rodrigues instead. Shoyo cheered, catching Natsu in the background of his own camera, her eyes curious but hesitant.

“Oh, this is my sister Natsu,” Shoyo introduced her in English.

Natsu was severely embarrassed and left after a brief greeting, annoyed at her brother. She was going through a phrase, it seemed.

“So did you read about the beach volleyball spring championships? I assume you have them over there in Japan too?” Heitor asked.

“Uhm, probably? I’ve been bad at keeping track,” Shoyo laughed sheepishly. Heitor seemed to roll his eyes, Shoyo catching it even with the lag of the connection.

“Broken arms don't take years to heal, Hinata! And you’re still young, you heal fast. You’re not getting lazy, are you?”

Shoyo gave a couple half-assed reasons before he was saved by Nice appearing on camera. She made Shoyo promise for the fifth or so time to come back to Rio soon.

After Shoyo had hung up he tapped his fingers on his phone, staring suspiciously at his laptop in the corner of his room. Shoyo’s first bedroom had been taken over by Natsu, which was fair if he thought about it, but it left Shoyo to sleep in Natsu’s old bedroom-turned guest room. He didn’t like bed at all but at least the house smelt familiar.

Making up his mind Shoyo grabbed his computer and got onto the bed, crossing his legs. Trying to convince himself to not get his hopes up he searched for the Japanese Beach Volleyball Association’s website, JBVBA for short. Compared to the several league’s websites for the V.League in indoor volleyball the beach volleyball seemed to only have one. Which made sense, he supposed, since beach volleyball was played in sets of two people, not a full team.

Shoyo found the words he was searching for quicker than expected. He didn’t even have to download any reports or protocols because it wasn’t written in a tiny footnote of a document.

It was written right there in the F.A.Q’s.

_‘Do you accept transgender players?’_

_‘If a TUE (Therapeutic Use Exemption) is granted we accept transgender players using hormone therapy. We refer to the WADA (The World Anti-Doping Agency) which can grant a TUE . '_

“Oh,” Shoyo heard himself whisper.

“Fuck,” he added to himself, quickly sprinting off his bed.

On his desk in a hidden little pile were the envelopes. He had opened most of them way back when they arrived, even when he knew he was going to Rio. There were two new ones his mother had added to the pile since the last time he was home.

Shoyo started shuffling through them, hastily unfolding the letters to skim through them and search for the words. Each paper containing ‘V.League’ were tossed in a pile on the left. Soon that pile was the only one and Shoyo stared at the last envelope, an unopened one. Turning it over he heard himself gasp. Right there in the corner it said ‘beach volleyball’.

Of course it would be the last one he opened. What were the odds?

Shoyo’s eyes immediately caught the ‘V.League’ in the letter though, his mouth dry. Convincing himself to calm down he read through it more properly.

‘(...) We’re a standalone volleyball association dedicated to beach volleyball not connected to V.League. Players may play for both which will be handled(...)’

“Shoyo,” his father called from downstairs. “Your grandparents are here. Come down!”

Still staring at the letter Shoyo felt like fainting, one last “Fuck” escaping from his lips.

***-***-***

Even with the late reply Shoyo was accepted.

Suddenly his world was back on track, just as busy as before the accident again and Shoyo was lagging behind.

His new coach and personal trainer Eric Yamamoto, a 46 year old Japanese American on exchange to Japan, worked Shoyo _damn hard_ for the first couple months. He was still careful with his left arm which meant Shoyo had to spend the majority of the time working his legs into shape again. Shoyo had never heard the term ‘ _lactic acid’_ repeated so many times before.

“Shoyo Hinata. It would’ve been better if you got fat during your time slacking off instead of losing your muscles. We’re gonna have to work double as hard now, Weasley,” had been Yamamoto’s opening line.

Even though Shoyo had been inactive for a little over half a year and had a bit of catching up to do, he was still a great player. Yamamoto actually praised him quite often, a contrast to his boot camp rules when it came to exercise. When Shoyo was running laps and exercising he screamed at him to work harder but when spiked tosses and landed quick serves Yamamoto always gave him a high-ten.

Shoyo liked him.

The first two months were tough and every night Shoyo slept like a rock. His appetite was back up again and perhaps not noticeable to him, but he was happier, livelier. Tobio seemed a little bummed when he couldn’t spend his free times with Shoyo, of course he never actually said so out loud, but other than that he was clearly proud of him.

Somewhere mid February when Shoyo returned home after a marathon-like exercise he had sprawled out on the floor in exhaustion, only making it to the kitchen. Tobio had simply watched him while he continued to eat his yoghurt, listening to Shoyo blabber on about Yamamoto’s dog which he sometimes brought with him when they went jogging at the park. Apparently his name was Deku, named by Yamamoto’s son, and loved to play in the snow. Shoyo was still catching his breath as he spoke, the grin on his face permanent for the rest of the evening.

When Shoyo finally got up to shower Tobio had grabbed him for a quick kiss. Shoyo hadn’t really reflected over the quiet “I missed you,” Tobio had whispered against his hair at the time. Now later he realized his boyfriend wasn't only referring to missing him that particular evening though.

Tobio seemed a little surprised by the initial switch to beach volleyball. Again, Shoyo didn’t talk about the decision V.League had made because it didn’t come and Shoyo didn’t want to start unnecessary drama. He was still upset, of course, but he didn’t feel like it was the time and place to tell Tobio how ass his organization was. With the contract they practically owned him anyway so he wouldn’t be able to do much.

Shoyo instead explained how he missed beach volleyball since Rio and Tobio seemed to accept it. He was probably just glad Shoyo was getting back into something instead of sulking around with bags under his eyes all the time.

The only occasions Tobio got annoyed was when Shoyo went on and on about his games with Heitor. _“Heitor, this and Heitor, that,”_ Kageyama growled.

Shoyo knew the amusement he felt from Tobio’s jealousy was malicious, but so what if he accidentally named his poor Portugese friend here and there? It made Tobio almost double as passionate, and Shoyo wasn’t complaining.

It was in March when Shoyo and Yamamoto got to know who Shoyo would be playing with in the Championships, decision made by the board members of the association. Shoyo had only ever gotten used to the playstyle of Heitor’s but he was definitely excited to try something new.

When Shoyo read the name Keiji Akaashi on the form he cheered loudly in surprise. Yamamoto was confused by the sudden cheering but joined in anyway.

Akaashi was apparently still working as an editor for an online magazine, on the side of playing beach volleyball. He had also been recruited by the JBVBA after his graduation but usually just played when the dates for competitions were coming up. This year he was taking the time to train properly for the summer championships, only half-time working at the magazine.

When Akaashi shook hands with Shoyo it was all starting to take shape, to become real. Now it wasn’t just Shoyo running around the park in the snow, doing laps with the sprint team in the sports hall or spending time with his arch nemesis; the leg press at the gym.

Suddenly Shoyo stood side to side with Akaashi in one of the two beach volleyball halls, tossing balls to each other with sand between their toes.

For some reason Toyota was the main sponsor for the JBVBA and they completed the construction for Japan’s largest all-weather indoor beach volleyball court, named Kinuura Beach Volleyball facilities, just in time before the summer championships. There was one court outside and one inside, both fully equipped with sand. With the competition closing in the courts were instantly put on a rolling schedule for the competing sets.

According to that schedule Shoyo and Akaashi got the court Wednesdays and Thursdays. Shoyo had declined all offered accommodation in Hekinan and Nagoya, the largest city close by. The fully compensated train from Tokyo was only a little under two hours after all. With the money Shoyo earned the moment he signed the contract with JBVBA he instantly started paying Tobio back for the apartment.

Of course Tobio didn’t really pay rent for his apartment, apart from the monthly fee for water and electricity, as it was a benefit from joining the V.League. Tobio argued he didn’t need his money, of course he did. But Shoyo knew how to win.

Dirty tactics allowed.

He had a plan.

Shoyo had taken the train back to Tokyo late after a pub night out with Akaashi, succeeding in not waking Tobio when he arrived back home. He slid under the sheets after a shower, hopefully not still smelling of beer.

When Shoyo woke up to a tongue on his neck he supposed the shower must’ve done some good.

Since both were busy with practice they hadn’t had as much free time and Shoyo was pretty sure it had been a month since he fucked Kageyama, recalling a moment on the couch after an argument about popcorn flavors.

As Tobio’s fingers slid down between his legs Shoyo played along, moaning sweetly for his boyfriend. He rolled his hips to show how desperate he felt, how much he wanted it.

It was still less than a week ago since his last shot of hormone. Shoyo still felt the rush and heightened libido he sometimes got afterwards. At least it was much more preferable to the headaches.

When Tobio continued down his body Shoyo stopped him with his foot though, pushing him down against the bed.

Turning over Shoyo got comfortable on his side, closing his eyes as he grabbed Tobio’s length with both hands, mouthing over the head before starting to swallow it down. With one hand he made wet pumps up and down while his lips sucked and his tongue played. His other hand trailed down to his balls, gently grabbing and tugging at them.

Tobio was a mess in meerly minutes. He tried reaching for Shoyo’s ass himself but got stopped once more. He whined a little in frustration but Shoyo ignored him, taking him deep into his throat once, twice.

“See, Tobio,” Shoyo started as he leaned back, speeding up his hand, “You can’t touch me right now because I won’t let you. I decide when you can and you obey me, don't you?”

When all the replies Shoyo got were he stilled both hands. Tobio immediately snapped his head up, question marks everywhere.

“Right, Tobio?”

“What? Yes?” Tobio asked, clearly a bit lost.

“Good boy,” Shoyo smiled before getting back to work. When he felt his boyfriend start to get close, when his testicles tensed and his hips got a little erratic, Shoyo let go.

“Fuck, Shoyo,” Tobio groaned, clenching the sheets at his sides.

“You’re a good boy, right, Tobio?” Shoyo asked, holding up his cock to mouth at his balls.

“Yes,” Tobio moaned in compliance. He seemed to catch on that this was another instance of Shoyo’s pleasure from dominance showing.

“You’re my good boy, hmm?”

“Yes.”

“You want to come?”

“Yes, please, Shoyo. Fuck…”

“You would do anything to come, wouldn’t you? Tobio, wouldn’t you? You’d even say yes when I demanded to take care of you, right? Just a little?”

“Yes,” the setter agreed and Shoyo smirked against the rock hard cock in front of his lips.

“So you’d agree to let me help you, right? To let me pay you for our home? Right, Tobio?”

“Yes?” Tobio asked, sounding mildly confused. Shoyo was impressed that he was sensible enough to half-realise what he was agreeing to.

“Good boy,” Shoyo whispered, voice deep. He grinned, adjusting his grip as he finally let Tobio pass the finish line, pumping his cock empty, holding him down as he writhed on the bed.

“You fucking asshole,” Tobio groaned as Shoyo forced the last spurts of white out, staining their sheets and Shoyo’s hand.

Shoyo just laughed maliciously, perhaps a bit childishly, as he got up to fetch a towel.

“I could totally take that back, you dummy,” Tobio yelled from the bed.

Shoyo returned a second later to throw a hand towel on Tobio’s head, pretending he couldn’t hear his words. He hadn’t bothered to brush his teeth but instead washed his mouth enough.

Contrary to the porn Shoyo had seen as a teen semen did in fact not taste very good at all. If they happened to be someplace they couldn’t get dirty and Shoyo still decided to get on his knees in front of Tobio he would swallow, as a way to hide the evidence. Sometimes when his boyfriend came faster than expected too, but Shoyo usually tried not to.

In secret he found it quite fun to see how far and how exact he could aim when he came, using Tobio’s chest or belly button as a target when jacking him off. Shoyo would take that bizarre game to the grave, though.

Now Tobio lazily beckoned him to come closer, Shoyo licking his lips as he got back onto the bed.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” his boyfriend said as he imidately sneaked his hand in between Shoyo’s legs. Sometimes it felt like his hand was a magnet or something.

“For being, in your words, 100% gay you certainly love pussy a lot,” Shoyo mumbled against his lips.

“Only my boyfriend’s,” Tobio promised.

“I still think it could be fun to get a strap-on,” Shoyo wondered aloud as Tobio pushed him onto his back.

“You and your fucking strap-on,” he sighed, licking down his jaw to bite and suck at his neck.

As an aside, Shoyo was really lucky to play with a partner like Akaashi who didn’t question his hickeys more than stare in silence.

In actuality some news sources had posted theories of Kageyama and Hinata being suspiciously close. Sharing the apartment wasn’t too odd but that one blurry picture of someone looking like Tobio kissing a redhead outside a Nakano bar in the area close to Tobio’s apartment? Got some people on social media talking.

Shoyo didn’t care too much. He knew there would be a shitstorm when he and Tobio both appeared with rings. The mere thought sent a shiver down his back.

“Maybe I want the strap-on to know what it’s like… to do the helicopter,” Shoyo said, laughing even before he could finnish his own joke. “Plus, you can’t be a proper gay man without having taken dick up your ass at least once.”

“What sort of logic is that?” Tobio asked, pausing where he was tasting and marking Shoyo’s collar bone to glare at him.

“Come on, Tobio. You’ve fucked my ass so many times though-”

“Three times, idiot. We’ve done anal three times and two of the times you were the one to ask for it,” Tobio corrected him.

“And I just wanted to make sure, you know, that I didn’t like it,” Shoyo argued, knowing he made no sure but still rolled with it.

“If you don’t like it why would I?” Tobio asked with a sigh, reaching up to rub each of Shoyo’s nipples. Opening his mouth he trailed his tongue around one, teasing the skin around before gently touching it with his teeth without biting.

“I… ah, I’m not the one with my- mhm… my G-spot in my ass,” Shoyo tried to say in between gasps. As three fingers pushed inside him he felt his eyes flutter close.

“Google told you that though,” Tobio pointed out and he had a point.

Shoyo hadn’t realized how much their bodies had missed each other until Tobio bent him over the kitchen counter for _the second_ time that day.

Some sort of playlist was playing in the bluetooth speakers that Shoyo had bought for Tobio that Christmas. Sometimes the echoing slapping noise of Tobio’s hips against Shoyo’s ass and thighs synced up in rhythm with the music. Neither seemed to notice though.

The kinkiest they got was when Shoyo refused to pause the movie they were watching even as he started to rub Tobio through his underwear.

They had both dressed in the matching kimono morning robes Kenma had sent them from his own brand of clothes. Shoyo wore his tied close while Tobio walked around with his open, the belt hanging loose at the sides. There hadn’t been much time for clothes that day anyway and Shoyo loved seeing his boyfriend as naked as possible. It was definitely in his top 5.

Tobio had trouble paying attention to other things while in the midst of sex though. Well, he wasn’t that good at multitasking in the first place, a contrast to his mother.

Shoyo was sprawled on the coach, hands lazily playing with the hardening length in Tobio’s underwear. Shoyo had yet to even remove the fabric but Tobio was already struggling to keep up with the action on the screen where he sat, legs resting on the chaise. Shoyo had seen Inception before but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t understand it any better a second time anyway so he busied himself with his favorite cock in the world. Unquestionably another thing on his top 5.

“Shoyo. I don’t think I can go again,” Tobio pleaded, the hand on Shoyo’s back gripping the fabric of his kimono tight. Yet even as he said that he didn’t do much to stop him. Added to the fact that his dick was already straining against his underwear.

“Yes you can,” Shoyo smiled, catching Tobio’s eye.

He still didn’t take him out of his underwear, instead continuing to rub and feel and touch.

“Such a good boy,” Shoyo hummed.

Tobio groaned, probably at the nickname, but only threw his head back. Shoyo noted he was missing the slow motion scene of the van on the tv. With two fingers Shoyo circled the spot he knew the head was, tracing up and down and in circles.

“Such a good cock. Already hard again, ready to please me, to fuck me when I want it.”

Tobio tried thrusting his hips forwards but Shoyo only followed, neither slowing down nor stopping his movement; keeping it the same.

He loved the fact that Tobio hadn’t even tried to grab himself or push Shoyo closer.

He knew who was in charge.

“I’m probably still wet, you know?” Shoyo began, licking his lips. “You’ve fucked me twice since we showered this morning and I can still feel it inside. It’s dripping sometimes and I’m reminded of which cock came in me. Which cock fucked hard and deep to get it as far inside as possible. Which cock belongs to me to use as I please.”

“Shoyo, Jesus,” Tobio gasped, staring at him with his mouth agape, eyes lidded.

Shoyo continued, feeling like he was on a roll. If anyone other than his boyfriend would hear his words though Shoyo would probably leave this plane of existence. For some reason he didn’t have a filter when it came to Tobio.

“When you wake me up in the morning by shoving yourself inside me I always complain a little because I’m woken up, but I actually love it, Tobio. You’re mine to order around… but sometimes I like to let you do as you please. Right, Tobio?

“Yes, fucking yes. I’m yours,” Tobio breathed. Shoyo decided to show mercy and tugged him free with gentle fingers, shoving his expensive boxers down far enough to get it completely off.

“God, I feel so empty again,” Shoyo gasped, “just like I do when I haven’t seen you in awhile. I need you to keep me full, to remind me of what a good boy I have. When I’m away, even when I’m practising, I’ll think of you in bed with your dick out, stroking yourself and I’ll clench around nothing, wishing you were there.”

Getting to his knees Shoyo faced the TV once again, back to Tobio, sitting on either side of his boyfriend’s legs before falling forwards onto the chaise. With one hand Shoyo grabbed the end of his robe to throw it over one side, revealing himself underneath.

Shoyo wasn’t even wearing underwear, parting his legs to make sure Tobio saw what he wanted him to see.

“See what you do to me?” Shoyo whispered. He could feel the wetness between his legs, knew that he was dripping. Whether it was from his own excitement or from the earlier loads Tobio had released inside him he wasn’t sure. Whatever it was it got a strong reaction nonetheless.

“Get it, Tobio? I’d let you fuck me in the sand right there in front of Yamamoto and Akaashi. Or if I’m at the gym you can throw me over the bench press and shove your cock inside, screw me until I’m shaking and leaking with your cum.”

“Shoyo, I know you love dirty talk but I’m warning you I-I’m going to cum soon… with or without you,” Tobio said, words shaky but voice stern.

“Mhm, better I do something about that, I guess,” Shoyo chuckled, figuring that was enough teasing for now. Perhaps it was Tobio’s inability to talk about sex or even just talk during sex. Maybe it was just that Shoyo loved speaking so much. He wasn’t sure why but dirty talk had almost become a hobby to him.

Finally leaning back up he felt Tobio hold himself in place, letting Shoyo sit down on him, both of them sighing in relief.

The movie was still playing in front of them, Shoyo briefly staring at Leonardo Dicaprio’s face as he rode his boyfriend’s dick.

Without having to say anything Tobio reached around to grab Shoyo across his torso, his arm holding down Shoyo’s chest as the shorter bounced on his cock, the motion preventing any weird jiggling in places Shoyo didn’t want it.

Perhaps it looked restrictive and maybe even a little forceful but it was just one of those things Shoyo wanted, what he needed. He rarely had to ask, Tobio just somehow seemed to know.

When he orgasmed for the fifth time that day Shoyo fell back against his boyfriend, resting his head on his shoulder as he slowly came down from the high. The thick length was still inside him, pulsing and twitching with each thrust Tobio made.

When he bit into Shoyo’s shoulder with a loud whine he finally felt him cum, once again pumping him full of whatever he had left. This time it was a lot less and didn’t last as long but Shoyo praised him anyway.

He stayed in the position for a little while, relaxing around the shape, keeping it warm as he caught his breath. When Tobio got a bit fidgety, most likely over-sensitive from the tightness still around his dick, Shoyo carefully got off. He fell back against the couch, meeting the setter’s eyes.

Shoyo’s smile grew into a grin and before soon he started laughing.

Tobio rolled his eyes but he wasn’t doing anything to conceal the smile on his lips.

“Shoyo,” he started.

“Hmm?”

“You know I love you so much, right?”

Shoyo felt his heart speed up, eliminating all the hard work it had done to calm down to a normal speed just a minute ago.

“Yeah, I do,” Shoyo smiled, too happy to even crack a joke. “You know I love you too, right?”

“For some reason,” Tobio grunted, shaking his head.

***-***-***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apparently toyota likes beach volleyball lol
> 
> The next chapter might take a little longer, if you have any comments or criticism please let me know!  
> Thank you so much for reading ♡


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Shoyo is 2 cm taller than me now... can I still call him short? Also Furudate coming in hot and fucking up canon fanfics for all the writers because apparently Kags did have a sister lol

The Spring Championships were over in a whirlwind, Shoyo and Akaashi screaming in victory after Akaashi gracefully blocked the last ball that granted them the gold medal.

They had the wind on their side even after each rotation on the court, added to a couple mistakes by their opponents. Unlucky for them but lucky for Shoyo and Akaashi. The best feeling in the world was nonetheless the knowledge that this was because of _their_ hard work. All the rounds he had run around the sprint track were worth it, every single one.

Shoyo managed to hold in his tears when they accepted their prize, a medium-sized price cup made out of glass, depicting a volleyball player and a ball. While the cameras flashed in front of them Shoyo held up the cup, absently wondering if it was a glass cup just because glass was made out of sand.

Back when he was still starting his early training Yamamoto had taken care of Shoyo’s exemption documents after he’d gotten his hormonal shot and a doping test a month after, in alignment with the rules. After Shoyo had finished a jumping exercise a week later that made his legs shake Yamamoto had rewarded Shoyo by revealing the results he’d gotten back.

In accordance with the TUE (Therapeutic Use Exemption) granted by WADA Shoyo was granted to play with no further complications.

When asked by his coach if he had plans to go out with the information of him being transgender Shoyo sincerely declined. He understood the damage if it came out some other way than him revealing it himself, but Shoyo had no interest becoming a piece of mystery for people to point and whisper about.

On the other hand, like Yamamoto had commented, it could be proof to younger people that guys like him could still make it, guys like Shoyo. Perhaps it was selfish, perhaps it was not but Shoyo just couldn’t care. He wanted to enjoy volleyball without any special treatment. He understood the idea and admired those who could dedicate their life to fight for others.

But Shoyo just wanted to play volleyball.

Akaashi and Shoyo were on the last train back to Tokyo before midnight a week later. The passenger car was almost empty, the lights inside dimmed but still enough to reflect in the glass from the pitch dark outside. When a small town showed up in the distance Shoyo would watch as they passed. Mount Fuji and Tanzawa couldn’t be seen very well at night so far away but Shoyo always kept an eye out.

“Bokuto just told me the results. You want me to tell you?” Akaashi asked, pushing up his glasses. He had his laptop in front of him, opposite of Shoyo. He always dressed proper, Shoyo thought as he looked at him. Akaashi wore a thick sweater, a nice green jacket on the seat beside him, not to mention his naturally styled hair. Without the knowledge one wouldn't guess he was a professional beach volleyball player.

They had been back to Nagoya for some promotional stuff along with a few interviews that day, mostly standard stuff. The Aichi prefecture was doing a lot of volunteer work for disabled children and teenagers interested in para-sports and the two winners of the beach volleyball tournament were expected to be there. Not that Shoyo would’ve said no if he was asked instead of practically forced by Yamamoto; he had a great time and he loved the cause.

Shoyo met Akaashi’s eyes as he thought about the question, biting his lip.

Tobio’s team Schweiden Adlers had played against Bokuto's team MSBY Black Jackals today. Shoyo and Akaashi were finished with their games for spring but the men’s spring tournament semi finals in indoor volleyball was just starting, and by chance the two top betted teams were up against each other early on. Shoyo was sure they would’ve both made it to the final otherwise.

“I don’t know,” Shoyo admitted. He was pretty sure he’d know the results the moment he checked his phone’s news, or when he finally got back home to Tobio.

Akaashi’s phone rang a second later and he simply looked at the called ID before hanging up. Shoyo raised an eyebrow.

“It’s Bokuto, he wants to talk about it,” Akaashi said in his usually monotone voice.

Shoyo snorted, looking back out the window.

“Eh, whatever, tell me. I won’t be able to rewatch the game without Tobio spoiling me anyway,” Shoyo sighed.

“Adlers won the last set,” Akaashi revealed, reading the results, “but it was pretty close on the last set, huh.”

“I see,” Shoyo said, unable to hide his smile. Akaashi said he was neutral but it was pretty clear he cheered for Bokuto’s team. Shoyo was obviously rooting for Tobio’s team, so the two beach volleyball players were a little competitive about their teams. Or rather, Akaashi tried to be nonchalant.

“Shouldn’t you answer Bokuto then? If he’s down from the loss?”

“Absolutely not,” Akaashi deadpanned.

“I see,” Shoyo laughed. “Though I guess I’m probably also going to have to listen to Tobio beat himself up over his mistakes.”

“Mhm. There’s about an 80% chance Bokuto’s going to crash my place tomorrow for alcohol, asking me to cheer him up,” Akaashi sighed.

“I’m sure he’ll get bronze though,” Shoyo smiled.

“I suppose,” Akaashi replied, stretching his arms above him.

There was a lone passenger a few seats down, an older lady, her head nodding with sleep every now and then.

Shoyo licked his lips.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” he finally asked, his hands tied in his lap.

Akaashi simply raised an eyebrow, waiting for Shoyo to continue.

“So… you’re in the journalism profession,” he started, unsure what words to pick, “Have you ever like, written or read about people who do sports but are different?”

The train rattled on some uneven tracks, the clanking sound filling the cart. Shoyo busied himself by searching for the bottle of soda in his bag from one of the sponsors of the event.

Akaashi waited a moment before he replied, his voice somehow more gentle now, like he knew this was something serious. “What do you mean, Shoyo?”

“I don’t know, like- just different,” he shrugged.

Taking that last step, saying those revealing words. It was more difficult than he had expected. He was sort of wishing he could backtrack by now.

“Of course, but everyone’s different in their own way. Some athletes have difficult upbringings, some come from foreign countries, some have illnesses,” Akaashi shrugged.

“I hadn’t really thought about telling anyone,” Shoyo admitted, rubbing his arm, “not because I don’t trust people… well, I don’t but I don’t _not_ trust you. So like, it’s more because I have no need to tell everyone and I usually just forget about it most of the time.”

Akaashi simply tilted his head, patiently waiting for Shoyo to continue.

Sighing, he looked up to meet his volleyball partner’s eyes. “But anyway, I’m a little different, in some aspects. And I have been thinking more and more about what would happen if it… came out. Of how people would react.”

“Well,” Akaashi started, closing his laptop. The car was suddenly darker than before, a city visible far away outside the train window.

“It depends on the thing that’s different about you. Some diversity is praised while other types are not. Political views, for example, can be controversial for an athlete in the public eye. Bad attitude can be forgiven to a certain extent too, if the person’s really good at their sport. But your attitude is obviously not your unique issue, no?”

“No, at least I don’t think so,” Shoyo laughed weakly. He cleared his throat.

“So, like, it’s sorta an illness. Doesn’t affect my everyday life and so on, but it’s…” he took a deep breath “a bit controversial, I suppose.”

“It’s certainly not anything obvious. I mean at least I haven’t noticed anything. And you’re still playing, so nothing illegal either, I presume?”

“I had to get an exemption for the doping test,” Shoyo explained.

“A TUE, right?” Akaashi asked.

Shoyo’s eyes widened as he stared at him.

“Sorry if I ruined your big reveal but I sorta discovered that on my own,” Akaashi admitted, looking a little embarrassed, quite different from his mostly blank for once.

“You… you knew?” Shoyo breathed.

“I apologize. I read your file in Yamamoto’s office while waiting for him, purely out of curiosity. I saw the TUE exemption and didn’t know what it was. At first I thought you were doping and I got really upset.”

“Yeah… no not really,” Shoyo replied, still a little tense. He had expected a different reaction, not that Akaashi had already known.

“So you know what it means?” Shoyo asked, wanting to make sure.

“TUE exemptions are for a lot of things. The first one I read was for growth hormone deficiency or something,” Akaashi admitted and Shoyo let out a surprised laugh.

“Going by your reaction probably not that. There were a few categories but putting other things together, like your unwillingness to change in the locker room, gave me an idea. Either you just have some bad scars or something you want to hide and take medication for, but I assume it’s something to do with your body.”

“I was born different, yes,” Shoyo nodded.

“So you’re transgender?” Akaashi asked. It was just a simple question but Shoyo’s stomach tightened, a cold shiver running through his body.

He was so incredibly comfortable with Tobio he often forgot people outside of their bubble existed too, and would have different opinions.

“As in you take testosterone?”

“Yeah,” Shoyo nodded.

Akaashi put his elbows on the table, hands in front of his lips as he looked out the window.

Shoyo’s first question was now back to hanging in the air, the redhead waiting for a reply.

“Did you find the article my magazine did on it?” Akaashi then asked, glancing at Shoyo.

“Yes, it’s one of the first results that pop up when you google gender dysphoria in sports and stuff.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Akaashi shrugged, “not a lot of people write about it here. It’s a much more discussed topic overseas. Alos, I didn’t write the article but I was part of the research team at the time,” he clarified.

“Which side are you on?” Shoyo asked, refraining from holding his breath.

“I’d like to say I’m neutral,” Akaashi explained calmly. “I support you as my friend and I wish things were different… but in the world of sports where rules are necessary, especially as money becomes involved in victories, it’s not that straight cut. I assume you know that.”

“I do, but I hate that it becomes some sort of prioritizing I have to do, whether I’m on the sports side or transgender- human rights side,” Shoyo frowned. It was like he was forced to choose what was more important, keeping sports rules clear and games fair for everyone or fighting for the equal rights people like him wanted.

Akaashi slowly nodded. “I guess you’re on the easier side to determine, since transgender females- I mean males, excuse me, aren’t already in some sort of advantage. If anything your biological body might be at a disadvantage and what would be the cost of letting transgender men play? But of course equality goes both ways and if men like you are allowed so should women. And that’s where it gets tricky.”

Shoyo listened to his words but didn’t reply. He had nothing more to add.

“So you’re asking how people would react if you came out with it, right?”

“I guess,” Shoyo replied, bummed by the conversation. He knew it would go this direction, he was the one to ask. At least Akaashi was being realistic, no matter how much it might not be the truth he wanted to hear.

“Because you’re on the side that gets it a little bit easier, just a little bit, there’s a chance it might not be as bad as some other cases. But it is a controversial topic and it might get the conversation started. Whether our country's ready for that conversation yet though I don’t know.”

“It’s one of the things I’m worried about,” Shoyo agreed, “What if someone with a lot of power fights to reduce what has been accomplished over the years, like the TUE or whatever.”

Akaashi reached for his bag to grab his own bottle of soda. “Mhm, there is that issue, if someone strongly doesn’t believe in inclusive sports.”

“When we discussed the issue at our office people were pretty split. I’ll refrain to mention the immature and closed minded comments some people had but I’m sure you can imagine what I mean,” Akaashi explained, Shoyo nodding.

“While you might imagine it was mostly men who had rude comments to say, a lot of the people on the opposing side were actually women. To them it was unfair that one woman would have an advantage due to higher testosterone levels, different muscle mass and so on compared to biologically born women. I remember reading a few articles about cases in USA where transgender women won competitions. Even some lgbt-pro people were objecting to it back then.”

“I’ve read a bit about it,” Shoyo nodded.

“I’m sorry I can’t give you a better answer, Hinata,” Akaashi sighed as he leaned back against his seat.

“That’s fine, I wanted to hear your opinion anyway,” Shoyo said with a small smile.

Akaashi sighed.

“To end on a good note though; If you remove the term sports from this discussion a lot more people, probably more than you seem to expect, are gonna be on your side. I’m not going to lie to you and say it’s an easy topic but people are more accepting now, especially young people.”

Shoyo tapped his fingers idly on the table, smiling a little.

“Plus, ignore the old beer belly idiots who say shit like ‘real men’ or whatever,” Akaashi added, dragging a hand over his face in frustration. “They’ll die soon anyway.”

“Jesus,” Shoyo spluttered, a surprised laugh escaping him.

Akaashi gave him a small smirk, reaching over the table to bump his bottle against Shoyo’s.

“Cheers to us for winning last week.”

***-***-***

When Shoyo arrived back home to Tokyo Tobio was still high on his post-victory. He had apparently slept since getting home but woke up just before Shoyo arrived to make an incredibly late dinner.

Shoyo glanced at the clock, 01:25. It was still dark outside but he figured he could go for some tamagoyaki.

“Congrats on winning,” Shoyo greeted him, yelping a little as Tobio lifted him up on the counter for a greeting kiss.

“Mhm,” Shoyo smiled against his lips. “You don’t smile a lot but you sure show your happiness when you want to. It’s almost similar to how people bottle up their anger, but you do it with your high spirits-”

“Shut up,” Tobio mumbled against his neck, distracting him with another kiss. Shoyo could tell he was smiling though.

His movements were slightly rough, his boyfriend still energized and probably ready to run laps around the house. Shoyo brought his hands around his back, warming his hands under his hoodie, caressing the heated skin there. When Tobio started to roll his hips Shoyo bit his lip.

“I want to fuck you,” Tobio confessed, voice breathy.

“I want tamagoyaki,” Shoyo countered.

With Tobio’s next game in four days they had tomorrow for themselves, Shoyo pitying him enough to clean the apartment while his boyfriend lazed around with sore muscles. He did some brief jogging on his treadmill but was otherwise still beat from yesterday.

Shoyo was an active person, he loved to be outside and move around, to breathe fresh air while he played a game. It was one of the reasons beach volleyball ended up being so much fun for him.

But this, spending a day with Tobio in their own bubble of the apartment, the outside world far gone?

It was like medicine. It was comfort, good feelings and love; all those cheesy things.

They didn’t have a bath so they sat together on the floor of their shower, the water weak but warm above them. Shoyo had his eyes closed, resting back against Tobio.

“Next place we get I want a bath,” he said for not the first time that day.

“Alright, we’re going to an onsen after I win,” Tobio grunted, Shoyo’s body moving with him as he deeply sighed behind him.

“Mhm, sound’s good,” Shoyo agreed, “We need a private one.”

“Of course,” Tobio hummed, leaning his head back to relax. Shoyo crossed his legs, his left only slightly outside of where the warm water hit.

“Think we’ll be able to not have sex?”

“In the onsen?”

“Mhm.”

The fact that Tobio had to think about it for a moment had Shoyo laughing. Shaking his head to get rid of the water in his hair he then tightened Tobio’s arms around him, relaxing back against him again.

***-***-***

With the Nationals right around the corner the sets were decided with haste, Yamamoto explaining this was usually how it went after the spring championships.

Apparently some duo’s were sometimes switched up, Shoyo thankful when he and Akaashi were announced as a set once more. The games were going to be held in Chiba just east of Tokyo, a little over an hour by car or subway, depending on the traffic.

After that was the FIVB, the Beach Volleyball World Tour. While Shoyo had given his damn hardest he was still surprised he was picked for the tour. The games were held in Australia that July, the temperature in Brisbane apparently chilly enough to be comfortable.

Shoyo knew Australia was close but checked his maps on his phone after Yamamoto had called him anyway. Tobio would only be about 3’000 km away.

It would be fine.

When Yamamoto said Shoyo would probably get a new partner for the FIVB he wasn’t too surprised. He and Akaashi were a damn good team but if you faced the facts they lacked in defence.

Akaashi was good at blocking when he got up high enough from the sand. Shoyo could jump but he always had trouble calculating where the block had to go. Their matches were thus usually pretty quick as their offence was their strong point. Once they were on a roll points started going quick.

Shoyo wondered if they’d choose someone from the spring tournament, someone he and Akaashi had gone up against. What was more likely, however, was to loan in a professional volleyball player.

“Would you go if they asked you?” Shoyo asked, innocently smiling down at his boyfriend.

They were both lazing around the living room after having recently showered after a shared jog around the area. Both of them were clad in comfortable lazy clothes and Shoyo insisted it was a couple-item since they both bought the same set of joggers and hoodies but in different colors. While the AC in the apartment was on high enough for Shoyo to keep his hoodie on, Tobio had shrugged out of his though.

Shoyo didn’t mind; he was busy drawing patterns and circles on his boyfriend’s skin, watching them fade away in seconds. He was basically laying on Tobio’s body, resting his head on his naked chest while the setter watched tv.

“They’re not going to ask me,” Tobio said, grabbing the remote to change the channel again.

“I know. But what if they did?” Shoyo pouted.

“Shoyo,” Tobio sighed, rolling his eyes. “I already said I’ll play beach with you next week.”

“I know, I know. Sorry, I’m just nervous about who they’ll pick. Probably someone tall,” Shoyo hummed.

Tobio wouldn’t be asked since his team was playing at a regional event at the same time as the FIVB. So anyone from the Adlers was out, same with the other competing teams.

It did leave Bokuto’s team and Shoyo entertained the idea for a minute. The Frogs were going to compete in the regional event as well, so Tsukishima was out of the picture too. Not that he’d say yes if asked anyway, Shoyo guessed.

He turned his head to rest it back down on Tobio’s chest, the tv showing some sort of tennis game. Tobio was interested in a couple sports outside of volleyball and would often watch big games when he was free. Shoyo would rather watch a movie, if he was honest, but he had monopolized the tv last week when he was binging a tv show. He had to be fair.

Turning his head over Shoyo instead faced the back of the couch, closing his eyes, wondering if he could get in some shut eye. A hand appeared in his hair a moment later, brushing around his curls.

“You want to talk about it?” Tobio asked and Shoyo weakly shook his head.

“No, it’s fine. I’m not worried or anything, just thinking.”

Shoyo heard the volume lower anyway, not completely mute but turned down to soft background chatter consisting of the announcer, each ‘pang’ of the ball and the audience cheering.

Shoyo’s left hand that had previously been under his head was now trailing Tobio’s collarbone and down, lazilly letting his nails gently scratch up and down his skin. His other arm was stuck to his side, beginning to fall asleep between their two bodies and the couch.

The hand in his air continued it’s brushing, Shoyo feeling himself get sleepy from the euphoric feeling. He loved when Tobio played with his hair, or any part of his body for that matter. His hands, his arms, his stomach when they were just lazing in bed. His boyfriend was a little different and would often grow impatient when Shoyo played with his hair. Everyone was different when it came to touching, Shoyo supposed.

A slow smile grew on his face as he started to feel a familiar feeling between their bodies.

“Are you getting hard?” Shoyo snickered, opening his eyes while turning his head to look up at Tobio. He moved his left hand back down to support his chin.

“Well, you’re lying on it so suit yourself,” Tobio sighed shamelessly. With how they’d begun their relationsship as fuck buddies Shoyo guessed it was only natural. According to Shoyo’s googling they had a lot more sex than avarage.

Scooting a little Shoyo pushed himself up, staring down at his boyfriend. Both seemed a little too tired to do anything about Tobio’s boner but Shoyo was always game for some kissing.

When Shoyo kept his mouth closed though Tobio tried to lure him to open them, licking against Shoyo’s lips. It took him a moment before he opened his eyes to glare at his boyfriend. Shaking with silent laughter Shoyo then grinned wide at his reaction.

“What are you doing?” Tobio asked, face a mix of confusion and annoyance.

Shoyo didn’t have a reason, he just liked to be a little shit sometimes. Leaning back down he apologized by kissing him properly, tasting a lingering flavor of coffee. Tobio sighed against his lips but gladly replied, his tongue pushing in against Shoyo’s, brushing his teeth on the way.

“I’m gonna miss you so bad when I go to Australia,” Shoyo said after breaking the kiss, scooting down to rest comfortably on his chest again. Tobio’s length was still half-awake, poking against his lower stomach.

“I think busying ourselves with exercising and practice will be the best option,” Tobio replied, sighing as Shoyo playfully wiggled against him just to get a reaction from his lower regions.

“You think you’ll miss me?” Shoyo asked, raising an eyebrow. He stilled his moving since he didn’t have the intent of it getting to sex anyway. When he realized he’d riled Tobio up enough for his boyfriend to start lazily moving his hips Shoyo pouted at his own doing.

“Of course I will,” he frowned, meanwhile holding onto Shoyo’s hips as he idly grinded against him.

Shoyo supposed Tobio had thought about it then. If he had prepared and planned to busy himself with work it made sense as it would work as a time filler. When Tobio was away on games Shoyo busied himself with volleyball and practiced much longer into the evening. With enough hard work he’d be too tired to do anything but eat and sleep when he got home anyway.

“I’ll even miss you tomorrow,” Tobio said, looking off towards the tv again. Shoyo smiled as warmth filled his chest. Even years after being together like this Tobio was still awkward about showing emotion.

“I would cancel but I bought a non-refundable train ticket.”

Shoyo hadn't really since he would just use his subway card and he wouldn’t cancel anyway though; he was looking forward to meeting Kenma and their schedules didn’t always add up when they tried to meet.

“It’s okay, I’ll be gone half the day anyway. Hoshiumi wanted to go rock climbing so unless we practice too hard I might join him,” Tobio replied, his hips coming to a slow stop when he seemed to tire of it.

“Sounds fun,” Shoyo’s eyes lit up. “Let’s do it together at some point.”

“Sure. Rather that than going to the race track.”

Shoyo had tried on multiple occasions to get Tobio to come with him to a race track with no success yet. To Tobio racing wasn’t a proper sport and Shoyo wanted to prove him wrong. He also wanted to show him he was a better driver. Since they were living in Tokyo neither of them had a driving license and there was no other way to prove who was best.

“Oh, and I’m thinking about telling Kenma,” Shoyo said, changing the subject.

“About?”

“Me.”

“You?”

“Yeah, me.”

Tobio frowned. “About us?”

“No- well, if you’re okay with it, maybe. But firstly about being trans, you know,” Shoyo pouted.

“Oh,” Tobio exclaimed, looking at him for a couple seconds, then “Why?”

“Akaashi and I talked about- Oh, yeah, I told Akaashi last week too. He’s cool with it,” he shrugged.

“Okay… Because it’s difficult to keep secrets or?” Tobio asked, his curiosity purely innocent.

“Well, I wanted Akaashi’s opinion on it, in relation to sports and things. His magazine wrote an article about it a year or so ago. He didn’t write it or anything but he did research, so he knew a bit about the subject.”

Tobio nodded, waiting for him to continue. Shoyo licked his lips.

“And it felt nice, telling someone. I talk to Kenma a lot and it… I don’t know, maybe it’ll be nice to have someone close who knows that isn’t you or my family.”

“Okay, but what did Akaashi say? About the research?”

Shoyo bit his lip, having hoped Tobio would just brush over that. “Ehm, it’s uh, a little bit controversial. For transgender guys it’s a little easier since we’re basically at a disadvantage with how our bodies biologically start. For women born male it’s troublesome, because some of them compete and they’re usually physically stronger than women born women, you know?”

Tobio frowned, looking up at the ceiling in thought. Shoyo understood his confusion and elaborated.

“So, in some countries you don’t need to be on hormones or have any surgery to classify as transgender. I’m not sure if you need a doctor’s diagnosis with gender dysphoria or something either, but I’m not sure.”

“So…” Tobio frowned, “if I grew my hair out and called myself a woman I could compete in the women’s volleyball team? In some countries?”

“Well, you’d be a scam,” Shoyo replied, “And that’s not what being trans is about, dummy-”

“No, I know that, idiot,” Tobio interrupted him.

“- but I guess that’s what people are worried about.”

“So you think the rules are too lax?” his boyfriend asked.

Shoyo considered it for a second, lifting his almost-asleep right arm to rest both on Tobio’s chest. “Well, no. You don’t think I’m any less a man than you just because I don’t have a dick, right? Just a different kind of man.”

“Of course not. I don’t think surgery is necessary for the diagnosis anymore than you.”

“But taking hormones is? There’s probably a lot of side effects from taking, well whatever those people take? The opposite to testosterone.”

Shoyo watched his boyfriend grumble over his words, he clearly understood the reason behind it being a controversial subject.

“I don’t know,” Tobio finally admitted and Shoyo hummed.

“That’s fine. I don’t know either.”

“What did Akaashi say then?”

“Basically just that. He said he was neutral but probably leaning against some clearer restrictions… but only when it came to women’s sports. Then again, equality goes both ways.”

Shoyo wanted to get the conversation over with as he realized it was getting a little close to what he didn’t want Tobio to find out. About the entire thing of V.League not allowing transgender people to comepete, in contrast to the Beach Volleyball Association.

“But anyway, would you mind if I told Kenma about us?”

Taking a deep breath Tobio glanced back at the tv. As far as they knew the only people who were aware of their relationship were their families, and Pablo, Shoyo supposed.

“What if he reacts badly?” his boyfriend asked.

“I don’t think he will. Kenma is one of the most down to earth people, right? Plus, I was watching his live stream the other day and there was a lesbian couple in the game and he didn’t say anything weird.”

Shoyo knew it was a weak argument but he truly believed Kenma would be the one he could trust with this.

“I guess,” Tobio agreed.

Shoyo raised an eyebrow, “What happened to the Tobio who was going to propose to me in the middle of a game on centre court, huh?” he teased.

When Tobio didn’t laugh or splutter like he usually did Shoyo frowned. “What? What happened, Tobio?”

He waited patiently while Tobio seemed to gather his thoughts, a hint of fear in his eyes, Shoyo’s blood running cold.

“I kind of told half the team that I wasn’t interested in women,” Tobio then admitted, staring off to some point behind Shoyo’s head. Shoyo felt his stomach tense.

“What happened?” he gently asked.

“They were asking everyone about girlfriends and stuff. I got tired of it and said I didn’t like women. Then Nozawa asked if I looked at them in the showers.”

Shoyo listened to the words, focusing on slowly inhaling and exhaling. He was getting riled up, he had to calm down.

“I cursed him off, of course,” Tobio continued. “I didn’t want to say I had a boyfriend already because I wasn’t sure if you wanted others to know… Some people would joke about it sometimes and I would always ignore it. But I told them anyway this time. I didn’t want them to think I was being weird and l-looking at them, because I’m fucking not. Nozawa has a shrimp dick too-”

“Okay, okay,” Shoyo stopped him, unable to hide the short laughter at those last words. “Wait, so is this all because I said I didn’t want to marry you yet?”

Tobio met his eyes, shrugging.

Inhaling deeply again, Shoyo let his forehead fall onto Tobio’s chest. He wanted to punch himself.

“It’s not because I’m ashamed of us, damn it, Tobio,” Shoyo explained.

“I’m worried about the reactions, sure, but it’s mostly so it won’t mess up your career. I could marry you right now, or promise you I won’t leave you for someone else, if that’s what you’re worried about but I thought we could wait with the rings until… well, I don’t know, a little later, in case things go bad or something. And I wanted to wear a ring when we finally did, not just say it and then get the rings later- shit, I’m sorry, Tobio.”

Suddenly Tobio’s behavior the last couple of days was obvious. He had been more clingy than before while simultaneously acting more down than usual. He was often kind of pissy, sure, but his silence was out of place.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Tobio mumbled but Shoyo could tell he was listening to his words. Leaning up to kiss him again he tried to convince him via touch too. His boyfriend sighed against his lips but replied eagerly.

When Tobio got like this, uncertain and somehow smaller, Shoyo always felt like killing whoever or whatever made him feel like that. Despite Tobio’s rough surface he was surprisingly receptive to spiteful words when they hit the right spot. Claims about his playing being off would force him to train harder, when people complained about his behaviour he would curse them but then spend a week thinking about it. He took words to heart, even though he might not show it very well.

“Fuck, were they all rude? Do you want to tell me?” Shoyo asked, leaning back to press his forehead against Tobio’s.

“Coach was there and he asked us to stop arguing. He also made them promise not to tell, pointing out how much was on the line if it got out. Uh, Nozawa was the only one who said something rude but the other guys were looking at me,” Tobio admitted.

“Wow, I hate him even more now since that racist comment last year,” Shoyo frowned.

“He’s an asshole, everyone knows that, even the coach. I pity the damage control they have to do everytime he talks about the Chinese. His serves aren’t even that good anymore, and they’re certainly not getting better. Even Sokolov is better than him because he’s practiced serving so much. Nozawa’s serves might not be enough to make him continue playing if he continues saying dumb shit,” Tobio ranted, Shoyo letting him.

Shoyo cursed inwardly. At first the idea of Nozawa getting kicked off the team had seemed like a good thing but now he imagined the player would take the chance to sell Tobio’s sexuality to some news sources. It would be a shitty move, exactly something Nozawa would do.

“Fuck him,” Shoyo muttered.

“Ushijima and Hoshiumi told me they didn’t care the day after though,” Tobio added. “Though Hoshiumi asked if I was dating you. I didn’t reply, I promise.”

“You can tell them if you want to,” Shoyo sighed, frustrated at past himself that hadn’t realized Tobio would take his denial this way. He was even contemplating googling which jewelry stores would be open on sundays.

“If it’s okay… I think I will,” Tobio said and his eyes seemed to shine.

Shoyo stared at him, feeling his cheeks heat up. “You really want to… huh?”

“Of course,” Tobio frowned, like Shoyo was being stupid. “You’re my boyfriend. Hoshiumi even said that if I was dating you he would be a little jealous.”

Letting out a weird noise Shoyo leaning down to press his face against his chest again, unsure what he was supposed to feel. Amusement, yes, but the fluttering feeling in his stomach?

The tv volume got turned back up and Shoyo peeked at Tobio to see he was going back to watching the game.

After a couple minutes Shoyo gave him another kiss, distracting him once more.

“Damn, didn’t I get lucky?” he hummed, looking down at Kageyama with nothing but love in his eyes.

“It’s not about luck, it’s about skill,” Tobio frowned. “Of course they would pick you, your offence is incredible.”

Shoyo could do nothing but grin at his stupid boyfriend.

***-***-***

Kenma had his own house.

It was an old build along with being a rental, located a little outside the capital. Shoyo had to wait at the second subway station for about 15 minutes, the train of the subway line an older model. The cart made a terrible racket as it drove through the tunnels, Shoyo seated in the back, distractedly staring at the rails.

Kenma’s house was pretty though and it was always nice to get away from the big city once in a while.

They talked about everything and anything for almost the entire day. Shoyo had kept in contact with Kenma over text but after he got back to Japan he hadn’t met Kenma since. Shoyo spent such a large portion of his time with Tobio that he forgot how much fun it was to hang with his friends.

“So, you still live with Kageyama, right?” Kenma asked when they sat around his kotatsu, drinking some fancy tea Shoyo didn’t particularly like. Kenma had raved about it though, so Shoyo drank it anyway.

“Yeah. The apartment belongs to his league,” Shoyo nodded.

“So you still get along okay? No fighting?”

“I uh… we probably fight a lot but it probably looks a lot worse than it actually is. We aren’t really serious, like, it’s just how we normally act.”

“I believe the saying is ‘arguing like an old married couple’, Shoyo,” Kenma said, taking a sip of his tea.

Shoyo stared at him over the cup, silence filling the room.

“... Yeah, we’re dating.”

“Thought as much,” Kenma said, setting his cup down onto the table.

And that was that.

“You knew?” Shoyo asked, his fingers fiddling with the fabric of the kotatsu in his lap.

“Had a hunch. If you hadn’t been so infatuated with him I would’ve put a move on you,” Kenma said, head resting in his hand.

Shoyo blinked. “What.”

“You interest me. I don’t know why; you’re short and loud and not the most handsome person I know-”

“Oi, what the hell, Kenma.”

“-But I still had a crush on you back in high school anyway.”

“Wh- you did?” Shoyo asked, eyes open wide in surprise. Tobio wasn’t the only one who called Shoyo oblivious when it came to this. Sure, Shoyo had noticed Yachi had been a bit awkward around him sometimes, but it was all because Sugawara was the one who told him she sometimes looked at him. But then even Tobio, who was supposedly in love with him, didn’t show any signs of that outwardly.

Did he?

“Not so much anymore, by the way. I’ve got Sara now,” Kenma explained, still looking as nonchalant as ever.

“You’re gonna ask her to date you when she comes to Japan… huh?”

“Mhm,” Kenma nodded.

Shoyo was still a bit shocked, staring suspiciously at his friend.

“What?” Kenma asked, his feet knocking into Shoyo’s under the table.

“I just… me? Why?!” Shoyo asked, still not able to get it over with.

“You’re inattentive but cute,” Kenma sighed, a small smile falling onto his face.

“You have weird taste,” Shoyo smacked his lips, “not that Sara isn’t pretty, she really is,” he quickly assured him.

She was handicapped though, apparently having lost one of her legs in a car crash a couple years ago. She apparently played the same video games as Kenma and they had started talking on Youtube a couple years ago. Sara lived in England which was pretty far away to say the least, but spoke japanese because of her mother. From what Shoyo understood Kenma had paid for her flight ticket to come visit him.

He certainly seemed to have the money to spare.

“Well, I liked Sara even before I knew she had a robot leg,” Kenma said, rolling his eyes, “but sure, I like weird. _Weird_ is not boring and I hate boring.”

Slowly nodding Shoyo wondered if he should bring it up or not, the thing he had asked Tobio about. His heart said yes so he listened.

“Did you know… the other thing about me that’s a bit weird then too?”

Kenma tilted his head.

“That you’re gay?”

“I’m bisexual,” Shoyo pouted.

“Well, same,” his friend shrugged. “So in this area that’s the norm,” he said, gesturing to the living room.

Shoyo snorted, scratching his head. “No, there’s another thing.”

“Hmm?”

“I, uh, I’m transgender,” Shoyo said, forcing himself to watch Kenma for the reaction.

His friend blinked, appearing genuinely surprised.

“Whoa, that’s cool.”

“Cool?” Shoyo raised an eyebrow, clearing his throat to try to get over his nerves.

“Again, the opposite to boring. Though I assume you wish you weren’t? Or?”

Shoyo looked down at his tea, thinking it over for a moment. He hadn’t thought about that too much recently. When he was younger he did almost daily, wishing and dreaming how things would’ve been had he been born with a dick instead.

“I mean of course I wish I was born with another body. But I don’t get upset about it as much anymore. Or like, I think about it every now and then but I don’t… I don’t panic over it, like I used to do.” Shoyo explained, pursing his lips.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Kenma said.

“It’s fine. Again, I’m much better now. Tobio is a reason for that,” he said, feeling the crease between his eyebrow fade out as he gently smiled. “He’s a little bit awkward and kind of a dummy sometimes, but he tries to be respectful. And he’s not judgemental in the slightest. When he says something unknowingly rude it’s just because he’s dumb, not because he means anything bad.”

Shoyo realized Kenma was smiling when he raised his head, spluttering a bit from his expression, embarrassed by his own words.

“I’m glad you told me though,” Kenma continued.

“I hadn’t really thought about it because I didn’t think it was something I needed to do, or want to, for that matter, “ Shoyo revealed, “but it feels nice. Though I don’t think I want everyone to know or anything, because it isn’t what defines… _me_ , you know? It’s just a part of me. But…” he trailed off.

“Well, to _me_ it means you trust me enough, which feels really nice,” Kenma explained.

Slowly nodding he added, “I told Akaashi too. He was also cool with it.”

“I think most people would be. I mean it’s the 20th century. But I agree it isn’t a necessity or anything, to tell everyone. It’s up to you.”

“It is,” Shoyo agreed, nodding, taking another sip of the nasty tea.

***-***-***

There weren’t a lot of beaches close to the center of Tokyo with the exception of Tsubasa beach. Unfortunately it was usually ridiculously crowded with families, enough to be impossible for Shoyo to get some training in. He usually had to take the train over to Chiba where at least there were a couple volleyball nets to borrow for free. Sometimes he’d play with students of the area, usually a lot of international students abroad who used to play back home. Shoyo’s English was passable, at least better than Tobio’s, so he got around when they didn’t speak Japanese enough.

Tobio came with him the following week, like he’d promised. It would technically be his first try at beach volleyball, which was seriously belated considering he was both playing regular volleyball professionally and dating a beach volleyball player.

Shoyo was basically jumping in excitement the entire train ride, perhaps having had a little too much coffee that morning.

“I’m gonna beat your ass,” he grinned as they set up one of the nets onto the poles. Thankfully the beach volleyball courts were a little to the side and the people at the beach there to sunbathe and swim were located more to the right, closer to the water. So they had their space.

They did some brief warming up, Shoyo making sure his boyfriend got the idea of how it felt to jump in the sand. It was pretty different than to an inside court and the last thing he wanted was for him to get hurt.

“I’m not old, quit it,” Tobio barked when Shoyo made sure he was good for the third time.

Shoyo wanted to bet on something, to bring forth some of Tobio’s competitive nature that would make him work harder. Then again the stakes were pretty unfair. Sure, Tobio was one of the best volleyball players in the country but he was a complete newbie when it came to the beach variation.

“The loser has to clean the apartment?”

“No, absolutely not,” Tobio declined, a hand over his eyes to shadow the sun. Shoyo still had his proper sports sunglasses from playing in Rio, walking over to his bag to get both the volleyball and Tobio’s regular shades.

“A massage?” he tried instead as he handed him his glasses, not about to toss them across the net in case they fell into the sand.

Tobio looked behind himself, making sure they were alone before he smiled mischievously. “Let’s play for a blowjob,” he said before sliding his glasses on.

Shoyo laughed aloud at how ridiculous he looked, throwing the ball into the air a couple times. “You know what, sure. Good enough.”

In the end Shoyo forgot about the competition. He had a lot of fun, even ignoring the slight sunburn he was starting to feel at his nape where he must’ve missed to apply sunscreen.

They switched sides every now and then since the sun’s position and the wind were large factors in beach volleyball. Tobio still used them as excuses when he lost a point, Shoyo pointing out it was what all amateurs said too. He didn’t mention Heitor had ridiculed him for all the times he complained about the wind back in Rio though.

He could tell Tobio was reaching his max soon though, legs probably aching from the unfamiliar workout. His toes were probably tired too, muscles most people weren’t used to using after all.

Not to mention the times he’d dived and gotten sand in his mouth, all a part of the deal, Shoyo promised. They were both looking like battered tempura with how the sand stuck to their sweaty bodies.

Shoyo beat him without much trouble at all. Playing two players was a little awkward and Tobio managed to block most of his moves since he was the only one to target. Similarly there were a lot of dumps and pushes since there were no second player behind them on each team. But what Shoyo lacked in height he gained in experience.

Ultimately he won, with quite a lot.

When the sun was starting to set around 7pm a few students made it onto the beach to play a quick game on the other court. One of them asked if they wanted to join but Shoyo was tired enough himself to decline, taking pity on his boyfriends, explaining they’d been at it since lunch.

“You’re… are you a professional beach volleyball player, by the way?” one of the guys asked and Shoyo smiled widely.

“I am. My name’s Hinata Shoyo.”

“I told you!” the student said to his friend, “You were on the winning team for the spring tournaments, right?”

“Yeah. I was a set with Akaashi Keiji,” Shoyo nodded. Behind him Tobio took the chance of a break and sat down in the sand.

“That’s so cool,” the student smiled. “Hey, could I get an autograph?”

Shoyo signed the notebook the student, apparently named Hahn, brought over. With a smirk Shoyo told him that Tobio was a pro player too. His boyfriend seemed a little bitter that Shoyo exposed him but signed the notebook nonetheless after wiping his forehead on his arm, sand getting everywhere. Volleyball was still a much more famous sport than beach volleyball in Japan and Tobio had no doubtedly signed more autographs than Shoyo in his career.

“If you come here again I’d love to play a game,” Hahn insisted.

“You’re a masochist,” his friend said, having asked for autographs too even though she didn’t seem to know who Shoyo and Tobio were. “You like to get beaten by the professionals?”

“Hey, I’m still better than you,” Hahn pointed out, Shoyo chuckling.

They took the interruption as the chance to finish for the day, Shoyo longing for a shower when they got home. His chest was aching a little bit too, he usually didn’t practice for this long without more brakes. All they had done was get a quick dinner at the nearby beach cafe. Tobio’s lasagna ended up being ridiculously expensive and not even good. It was clearly microwaved considering the still cold middle.

He had ultimately been too hungry to complain though. At least the portions were large.

When Shoyo lied in bed later that day he looked at his phone, watching some sort of trailer for a game Kenma had sent him. It looked fun, perhaps something he could pick up when it released. He wanted to get back into gaming, having forgotten it was fun too.

Letting his hand travel down he fitted his fingers in Tobio’s hair, rolling his hips against him. Looking down between his legs he noticed his boyfriend was fully focused on his job, methodically licking into him, getting Shoyo’s blood rushing.

Dropping his phone he leaned his head back against the pillows, enjoying his price for winning.

***-***-***

Shoyo and Akaashi were chosen to represent the Gunma prefecture in Kantō out of all the 47 japanese prefectures, Shoyo not completely sure why. While Akaashi apparently had a cousin there Shoyo had never been. Google told him there were a bunch of horses there or something.

There were 7 two-people sets for Gunma and while the Tokyo duo, consisting of an exchange student from Germany, was a good challenge they still came out on top. It was a week’s worth of matches and when Shoyo was interviewed for the Gumna newspaper he was stopped last second by Akaashi before he made a horse noise.

Out of the five regions of Japan Shoyo felt good representing Kantō. It was the region Akaashi was from and technically where Shoyo currently lived.

The Miyagi duo who competed in the Tōhoku region apparently did awful, Shoyo being unable to find a video anywhere online. He felt a bit disappointed by whoever Uzuki and Nonami were.

Two weeks before the final Akaashi fell ill in a fever. It wasn’t anything dangerous, just a regular flu but it still made them miss out on critical practice. Even though Akaashi was days past the contagious period and allowed to play he was clearly still a bit woozy.

They still got bronze but Shoyo knew they had been expected to win.

In a way it didn’t feel that bad though. It was no one's fault, and even though Akaashi clearly beat himself up over it being his fault, it truly couldn’t be helped. Shoyo busied himself with praising his friend highly considering he did as well as he did even with his illness still lingering. The punch Shoyo received was unexpected but probably a bit fair.

With a last beer run Shoyo said goodbye to Akaashi for now. They both promised to keep in touch and while Shoyo enjoyed Akaashi’s company and had gotten used to being around him he felt like deep down they were too different. It was like one of those ‘yeah, we should go out for a coffee sometimes’ that never happened.

Perhaps he’d meet him sometime along the way but if Akaashi wasn’t the one to initiate a meet up Shoyo assumed he himself wouldn’t either. With Akaashi going back to editing it was fair.

Shoyo would still fondly miss the games they played together, the moment Akaashi blocked that ball at the spring tournament. It brought another smile to his face and he raised his beer glass in another cheer.

Next up was the world tour. Shoyo was nervous but he knew he could tackle it.

He couldn’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I the only one constantly mixing up Bokuto and Bakugo’s names? Istg
> 
> Anyway, thanks so much for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

Atsumu Miya hadn’t heard of Shoyo.

At least that’s what he said when they first met. Shoyo had a suspicion it was a lie though considering their different play-styles synced up quite well for just their first practice round. He, at least, had looked up videos on Miya before so he had an idea of what to expect. The trouble was those videos where he was playing with his twin Osamu because Shoyo would constantly mix them up, having to go by their shirt number instead.

Miya was from the same team as Bokuto, the Black Jackals, and he was a damn good setter but just like the interviews online the setter was pretty god damn arrogant. It made them clash a couple times, Shoyo even stomping off in the middle of practice once. When they each did their best they got on better so after about a week of training Shoyo had mostly figured out what made Miya tick. He was hard working, just like Shoyo and just like Kageyama.

The two often met up at the Chiba beaches, usually to exercise in the sand but sometimes to play too. Shoyo met Hahn again, the college guy, and they sometimes played a game or two. Miya and Shoyo were obviously professionals though and it was tricky keeping the game spirit good when they constantly beat the other people who just wanted to play for fun. Added to the fact that Miya didn’t want to play nice, just always give a 100 percent and nothing less. Shoyo agreed they should practice and give it their all, but when the poor university students didn’t score even once he didn’t fault them for leaving mid-game.

When Bokuto and Akaashi showed up to practice Shoyo had to take back his own words about never seeing Akaashi again. Instead he had a lot of fun with both ex Fukurōdani students. Miya and Bokuto were a weird match but it was clear they got along, probably because it was crucial for them to, for their team to work. While Tobio usually didn’t get along with other setters Shoyo could tell Miya and Akaashi were well acquainted. When Shoyo and Bokuto did laps in the gym the other two sat on the benches talking, both looking a bit judging as they watched them.

Then again, maybe they were talking shit.

Shoyo was pretty sure they were talking shit.

***-***-***

The Egota No Mori Park was just a walking distance from their apartment, Shoyo bouncing on his feet as Tobio paused to tie his shoelaces when they’d apparently come undone.

It was still ridiculously warm outside but the shade from the old trees at least kept most of the sun out. The plants around them gave off a hundred different scents, Shoyo trying to remember it for later when winter would arrive.

Jogging with Tobio was nice. When they were younger it would always turn into a ridiculous competition which left them both out of breath, legs aching. Now Shoyo kept an even pace as instructed by his personal trainer, focusing on rolling his feet and pushing off his toes as he ran.

Tobio was a lot more focused on his run though, while Shoyo easily got distracted by stories and tales; he just couldn’t help it.

They passed women with strollers, old people slowly making their way forwards, lost tourists and noisy teenagers.

“If you shut up for the next ten minutes I’ll make you soba,” Tobio eventually promised when they took a short water break. Shoyo lit up, jumping in the air, his sneakers bouncing on the asphalt.

***-***-***

It didn’t take long before Shoyo was spending his last night at home before Australia.

He was sitting on one of the barstools by the counter, tapping his fingers on the surface in beat with the song playing. The entire kitchen smelled like fish, sesame oil and heat from the stove. Shoyo was out of his sweater for once, warm from just the thought of food.

“Hasn’t it been like ten minutes now?” he impatiently asked, reaching for another grilled asparagus when Tobio had his back to him. Quickly shoving it into his mouth Shoyo hid his stolen goods but with the price of burning his tongue, just like he’d done the first time a couple seconds ago.

“We are not eating half-raw salmon. Calm down,” Tobio argued, looking at Shoyo over his shoulder where he was washing up the pan.

“But we’re japanese,” Shoyo whined, flopping over the counter in defeat.

“It’s grilled salmon, not sashimi,” Tobio replied, not budging.

As he opened the oven to check on the fish the scent passed through the room once more, Shoyo dramatically groaning.

“I’m horny too,” he added pathetically.

“I’m not letting the food get cold again because you can’t keep your pants on,” Tobio immediately threatened, pointing the spatula at Shoyo. Watching his boyfriend Shoyo imagined Tobio just needed a pot lid-shield to go with his spatula-sword to look like a real kitchen knight.

“Okay okay,” he sighed, looking over at his phone where a text from Nishinoya appeared.

The two fell into a sweaty heap on the bed an hour or two later, Shoyo getting some of Tobio’s hair in his mouth. His arms were still aching, a shaky hand reaching up to brush it away from his face.

“I feel like that made up for at least a month of being away from each other,” Shoyo breathed, his free arm reaching for the cold cover to cool his skin.

“I’m not going to be able to go to practice tomorrow,” Tobio whined, Shoyo smiling maliciously since he knew he was the reason for that.

“I feel like you can take a day off,” he replied, closing his eyes. Tobio wiggled a little in front of him but Shoyo pulled him closer, the motion backfiring as Tobio’s shoulder blades harshly pushed against his chest.

“Take it out, damn it,” Tobio hissed and Shoyo looked down only to realize the strap on was still inside his boyfriend.

“Oh, sorry,” he awkwardly laughed, scooting backwards while Tobio released a shaky sigh. He was already sleepy, his eyes starting to drop and his boyfriend sighed in annoyance yet still sat up to start helping Shoyo out of the harness. As he disappeared to take a shower Shoyo only woke up when he returned, crawling back under the sheets with him.

***-***-***

Brisbane was beautiful.

At least from 5 miles in the sky.

Shoyo felt the familiar tingle of traveling as he stepped off the airplane, the ride pleasantly short considering the distance. The view outside the plane had been mostly ocean but when they passed above the clouds and the morning sun rose above in a mix of warm colors Shoyo was entranced.

Their plane had been one of the earliest ones available, a taxi waiting for Shoyo and Miya at the airport, the driver holding up a sign with their names. Underneath the printed letters was the FIVB logo, Shoyo coming to a stop to grin in excitement, the taxi driver’s face completely blank. Miya slapped Shoyo’s shoulder as he was holding up the line of the passengers behind them.

The airport was pretty central and it only took a couple minutes to their hotel. Shoyo had taken the backseat and asked for the sign the taxi driver had held, taking a picture of it and sending it to his boyfriend.

Entering the hotel Shoyo was pretty sure the man leaving before they entered the building was one of the Russian players, but he didn’t have time to get a good look.

After checking in Miya disappeared into his hotel room, not having slept much considering their 03:00 flight. He was a light sleeper and just like he had trouble focusing when serving if there was loud noise around the setter craved absolute silence as he slept.

Shoyo hadn’t gotten much sleep either since Kageyama kept him up yesterday- no, scratch that, Shoyo kept Kageyama up to rid his nerves. But with the airport coffee Shoyo was bouncing around, ready to explore the city.

He ended up wandering around the city, pretending like he couldn't understand English when people with folders approached him. His time in Rio had been a lesson for life and certainly taught Shoyo to toughen up but also not be too gullible around strangers who asked him for his credit card or signature.

There was a smaller book cafe next to a massive Starbucks and while Shoyo felt in no mood to read most of the tables were empty. He ordered another caffeinated drink and an egg sandwich, suspiciously judging the one that said raw salmon teriyaki. Especially considering teriyaki was a cooking technique which meat or fish were grilled in the first place. How could something be raw and grilled at the same time?

Stealthily taking a picture of it he also sent it to Tobio.

After he had made his way towards Brisbane’s seafront Shoyo’s feet were starting to hurt, and he had already fallen for two tourist shops with knick-knacks all probably made in China. The little koala hugging a volleyball was too cute to not pass upon though.

At least Shoyo didn’t have to constantly focus on traffic, not because of trauma from his accident in Brazil but mainly because Australians also drove on the left side. It had been a serious struggle his first couple days over there.

When Miya woke up they ate dinner together at the hotel, well, a late brunch for Miya. Shoyo felt bad for him since his set parner must’ve felt a lot worse than Shoyo originally thought. Hopefully it was just jetlag or flight sickness and not an actual illness. After a fulfilling dinner of steak Shoyo was ready to turn in for the night.

His room was still plain and almost untouched where he just tossed his luggage in earlier, Shoyo going around and turning on the lights and charging his phone. The room had that plastic-y and unfamiliar smell along with the scent of cleaning detergent and dust at the same time. After bouncing onto the bed Shoyo slowly stilled, looking around, pouting at himself as he already missed his own apartment. Because of his day full of activity he fell asleep fairly well nonetheless.

The next morning Shoyo and Miya headed over to one of the beach volleyball courts, the warm sand underneath his toes familiar, getting Shoyo in the right headspace, a smile back on his face.

He called Tobio the next day.

The wifi of the hotel was great but the view of his room even better. The seafront was beautiful even in the dark, the wind wild outside as it pushed around the waves while the dead trees stood still in the night. A couple large birds sat far away in one tree, huddling close, perhaps sleeping.

Shoyo was only 1 hour ahead of Tobio time zone wise so he knew his boyfriend would be home by now. Hearing his voice was comforting, Shoyo wishing he had taken the time to call earlier.

“The hotel’s food is better than the famous restaurant down the street,” Shoyo wined a couple minutes into the call, “but they always want us to go there. Since it’s famous or something.”

“I don’t understand why you can’t just say you don’t like it,” Tobio answered, snacking on some peanuts or something.

“I got a shrimp pizza and I’ve had a stomach ache for the entire day,” Shoyo groaned.

“Drink milk,” Tobio replied.

Shoyo frowned, legs swinging on the bed. He stared at himself in the reflection of a mirror on the wall, only his eyes up visible. “Milk?”

“It’s supposed to help.”

“Are you sure?” Shoyo asked, calling bullshit.

“Whatever, shouldn’t you head to bed soon. Your PT is coming tomorrow, right?” Tobio asked, a long sigh escaping him.

Shoyo fell back on the bed and rolled over onto his back, eyes darting between the two ceiling lights. “Mhm, Yamamoto said something about a night flight though.”

“I see.”

Silence settled over the line, Shoyo biting his lips while he waited for Tobio to initiate the next conversation.

“I miss you,” he finally said himself instead, knees bending as his legs fell flat onto the bed.

“You haven’t even started the competition yet, dummy,” Tobio said but the way he scolded him only made Shoyo smile.

“What? Am I not allowed to miss you until it starts? How does that make sense?”

“It does,” Tobio declared. “You’re only allowed to miss me after at least half the time has passed.”

“If you say so,” Shoyo chuckled, convincing himself it made sense. And if it did make sense then he shouldn’t worry for another couple of days.

Somehow, even with how stupid that was, Shoyo slept a little better that night.

***-***-***

The FIVB Championships would last for 10 days, the first starting tomorrow. Yamamoto had arrived in Brisbane that morning and ran a couple easy exercises with Shoyo along the ocean beach. He insisted on taking it easy and focusing on preparing for tomorrow.

According to him they would have no trouble beating their first competition, a set from Qatar with two semi-rookie players. Their second game would most likely be the Czech duo, if they beat Uruguay.

Their first set was as expected, pitted to their victory. Both Qatar players were taller than them and the muscular guy on the back line frightened Shoyo. But they were ultimately too slow to catch the balls. Shoyo was reveling in the glory of their first win, ignoring Miya’s warning about getting too cocky. Like he was one to speak.

The other prediction also came true as the Czech duo were up for their second game. They were obviously more experienced but there was something odd about their chemistry. The two players were awkward and while both played well on their own Shoyo watched them make amateur mistakes like both of them freezing while they expected the other player to catch the falling ball.

Throughout the days their games went well and with the controversial mid-week disqualification of the Russian set Shoyo and Miya suddenly got bumped up the bracket. It was heavily covered online on social media and Miya asked Shoyo to translate some of the articles since he was better at English from his time in Rio.

No one commented on why Shoyo was wearing a shirt while most players didn’t. The team from Brazil looked like models straight out from a magazine with their abs in everyone's faces. On the other hand the Czech team also wore shirts, even long sleeved ones in the sun so it was probably cultural or personal preference.

Before they only, just _barely_ beat the Brazilian set, Shoyo impressed them by speaking some Portugese. Miya had insisted he should keep it silent so he could listen in on them but Shoyo was above that.

Perhaps his language skill was part of why they won, perhaps it was not but the two players, Luca and Francisco were practically cheering for Shoyo even in their own game, “ _Louvar_ ” being repeated over and over.

Days passed.

When they won against the Norweigan duo everyone was surprised. Shoyo’s heart was beating loudly as the music played, the announcer’s voice echoing in the speakers and the audience cheering. Shoyo looked around, confused and not completely catching up to what had just happened.

Miya turned around on the field, sand flying in the air as he jumped up to Shoyo, giving him a high ten.

Even more days passed. And in the end they couldn't beat Germany’s set. One of the guys was an experienced player with immense speed that left Shoyo in both awe and envy. He kept giving everyone thumbs up though, so at least he was kind.

Then the last day came.

Shoyo was sprawled in the sand after their final game, a grin on his face as he panted loudly, the American duo defeated.

They had gotten silver. Fucking silver.

When they were stumbling off the court Luca and Francisco picked up Shoyo and carried him over to the booth where the main sponsor was doing interviews after each game. People applauded, Miya laughed between his heavy breathing and Shoyo had his arms high up in the air.

He felt brighter than the fucking sun above him.

***-***-***

When Miya had told him Shoyo might get the MVP award he didn’t believe him. When he had to step up on the podium without a prepared speech or anything, looking like a lost child, he still wasn’t sure he believed him.

Apparently Shoyo had been the player who scored the most points on his own. It had to do with his and Miya’s choice of strategy where Miya mainly set the balls for Shoyo instead of attempting to score himself. So even though they didn’t win Shoyo received his own award. There were a couple extra awards, of course, and Francisco managed to get two different ones.

But Shoyo was still shocked from the second award, the medal around his neck while he and Miya held the cup in both hands, posing for the camera. Two of the Japanese magazines on location did a full spread on them, Shoyo and Miya having booked a location for the day after where they wanted a proper photoshoot.

When the celebrations continued on into the night Shoyo sat on the windowsill of the hotel, watching the ocean while he spoke to Tobio about the game, their mistakes and their success, the moves and all the amazing players.

The cold wind passed through the room, cooling him from the summer heat and flush he felt from the sound of Tobio laughing in his ear.

***-***-***

Miya’s brother, his girlfriend and personal trainer along with Yamamoto joined Shoyo and Miya in celebrating the next day.

The photoshoot took place on the same beach and Shoyo oddly enough felt a little weird being in shorts and a shirt instead of his game clothes. The interview went well and it was mostly just questions connected to the game. When asked about significant others Shoyo opted for the usual reply that he didn’t have time for that yet. Miya saved him by going on and on about his girlfriend.

After the photoshoot the two players went to a local street food festival in Brisbane that by chance happened the day after the FIVB tournament. The stands from Japan were tempting with smells of soba and takoyaki but Shoyo contained himself, instead trying a chicken and mint stew from an African kitchen with massive pots and captivating scents. The idea of mint in a chicken stew was outside of his comfort zone but damn did it taste good. Especially after that bad shrimp he’d had the week prior.

Shoyo wondered if he could successfully convince Tobio to try and recreate the recipe. It might just be the hunger added to the feeling of a fun street food festival but Shoyo already wished he could’ve bought a second portion to bring back to Tokyo.

The chatter was loud, the energy good and even though Shoyo had a lot of fun he couldn’t help missing his grumpy boyfriend. The string lights on a stand with thai food blinded Shoyo as he once more fell into thought, Yamamoto elbowing him to get his attention.

After just one beer Shoyo was too exhausted to continue into the night. Yamamoto had already left after the food, Miya’s personal trainer as well. They both had the same early flight as Shoyo the next morning after all.

Miya was staying another week since his girlfriend had another week free from work in Japan, working as a university lecturer on livestock anatomy, of all things. His twin brother was heading home in two days, having booked one of those 12 day cruises via Rabaul, Papua New Guinea with a friend of his.

At first Shoyo was envious of his spontaneous trip but after realizing the cruise ship wouldn’t dock for long at each location and mostly just pass over the ocean he didn’t think it was that exciting. As far as Shoyo understood it was mostly drinking and clubbing _inside_ of the massive boat. Shoyo wanted to see nature and sightseeings! Weren’t there cannibals in Papua New Guinea?

Shoyo truly liked traveling even though he hadn’t done a lot of it. He thought Australia was pretty, at least the parts he’d seen. He thought back to the games he played, the spectacular sunsets on the beaches, even with how cliché that was. Somehow he kept recalling one of the street performers he’d seen outside of a clothing store. A young girl with an electric guitar, strumming relaxing tunes while she sang with her eyes closed. Shoyo was regretting not writing her name up so he could find her songs online afterwards.

And if Tobio had come over Shoyo wouldn't have minded staying another week or month in Australia. As he did not, Shoyo instead longed to get back home. He briefly wondered if he perhaps was a little unrealistically needy?

Google told him it was okay to miss his boyfriend as much as he did, and when was Google really wrong, Shoyo thought.

***-***-***

The flight back home was the opposite to the one when Shoyo had arrived on though.

The pilot warned about turbulence and Shoyo held his seat tightly, trying to focus on anything but the feeling of his stomach turning inside out.

The wanderlust he’d felt when researching countries and cruises in his hotel room last night was gone within minutes, Shoyo wondering if he would even want to step onto a plane again after this.

When the tall lady in front of him bent forwards and Shoyo heard barfing noises he couldn’t hold it in himself either, barf bag ready. The line to the toilet was starting as soon as the seat belt symbol turned off with a ping and Shoyo was in trouble, sitting in the middle of the plane.

He washed his mouth with some water, tossing his bag of shame as a red haired flight took a walk down the aisle with a trash can, giving people practiced looks of sympathy.

It was pretty fake but Shoyo appreciated it nonetheless. Perhaps he liked her because her hair was a similar color to his.

Seated where he was the bloody wing of the plane was covering the view outside too, the flight turning out less and less glamorous with each turn.

Finally getting off the airplane and collecting his luggage Shoyo did it all with his eyes half-closed, longing for his damn bed at home. As he watched cars pick up and drop of people outside he wished Tobio had a licence and could come pick him up. Instead he had to get onto the warm bus with everyone else, including the loud American and Chinese tourists. On any other day Shoyo wouldn’t have minded them, he would’ve probably listened to what they were saying, but today his patience was running thin. When his earphones started glitching Shoyo wanted to cry. He couldn’t even listen to music, wallowing in his self pity as he neared the location where he would get off closest to their apartment.

***-***-***

Similarly to how Miya arrived in Brisbane with a headache and sour mood, Shoyo stepped inside the door of their apartment.

Tobio, the sweetheart, had cooked just like he promised. At least it smelled like it.

Kicking off his shoes and dropping his bag by the door Shoyo crawled up the stairs into the living room. He had already texted Tobio when he landed on Japanese ground again so his boyfriend was aware of Shoyo’s state and mood.

He greeted him warmly anyway, enveloping him in a hug, still wearing the faux leather apron his mom had given him. Shoyo was pretty sure it was supposed to be used during barbecuing but it made Tobio look hot and manly so he didn’t mind.

Tobio smelled like home and cooking and Shoyo smelled like airports and traffic. He had never felt more gross.

A kiss to his hair made Shoyo smile for a couple of seconds before he frowned and leaned back. “That’s dirty. My head has been on plane and bus chairs.”

“You don’t smell that bad though,” Tobio replied, looking down at his boyfriend when Shoyo leaned his chin on his chest, looking up to meet his eyes. When he tiptoed and pursed his lips Tobio obeyed and greeted him with a short kiss.

“I brushed my teeth,” Shoyo admitted. Half his attention was on the noise of something sizzling in the pan behind Tobio in the kitchen. Hopefully meat or broccoli.

Tobio raised an eyebrow. “You brought your toothbrush on your carry-on?”

“I bought one of those tiny little tooth pastes under 100 ml. It was really cute.”

“...It was… cute,” Tobio repeated slowly, looking confused.

Shoyo couldn’t help the exhausted laugh, letting himself fall back into his boyfriend’s arms for another couple seconds before heading towards a well-earned shower.

***-***-***

Despite it all, despite his award and their silver medals and hard word, at the end of the day something was very clear.

Shoyo Hinata was an idiot.

He always kinda knew he could be a bit aloof, not the best when it came to school work and IQ and those sort of things. He wasn’t a fool at volleyball but other things in life? Yeah, kinda.

When Dr. Ito greeted him the following Monday he had prepared some questions.

She was shuffling through her notes as Shoyo got comfortable in the armchair across from her desk instead of sitting on the hospital bed to the right. Her room was nice, maybe a bit lavioush. Dr. Ito didn’t have her hair in a fancy ponytail today so perhaps she’d been busy lately.

“Hi,” he greeted her, rubbing his hands together.

She must’ve noted his nervousness, her eyes passing over his hands as she sat down behind her desk after discarding some papers into the bookshelf on her right. “So, how have you been, Hinata?”

“Australia was nice. I got quite tan,” Shoyo chuckled, rubbing his cheeks a little.

“I can see! It looks good on you,” Ito smiled. “And the game?”

“It went well! We didn’t get gold but we got the next best,” Shoyo said, tugging on the sleeve of his denim jacket. “I got an award for most points though.”

“Congratulations,” she cheered, sounding genuinely happy for him, “I’m not going to lie, I read a bit about it in the news.”

Shoyo unconsciously puffed out his chest a little in pride.

“Thank you,” he grinned, smile faltering from the sudden ache in his temples stinging. He summarized a few parts about the game anyway, aware she didn’t have time for too much chatter. Dr. Ito had been his doctor since he moved to Tokyo but while she was kind he never quite felt completely comfortable with her. Shoyo wasn’t sure what it was but something about her somehow felt a little ingenuine. It probably stemmed from the few times she tried throwing shade on the hospital she worked at. Shoyo understood the need to complain and vent a little, even if it was just short hand comments, but he wasn’t sure he was the person she should be venting to, her patient. And he was fairly sure she told all her patients after all.

“I, uh, my headaches have been kinda worse lately,” Shoyo admitted after a minute, getting to the point.

“I see. Did this happen right after the most recent shot, or unprompted?” Ito asked, typing on her computer, most likely bringing out his journal.

“Kind of randomly actually. I had some weird food in Australia so I’m wondering if I got food poisoning.”

“Have you felt sick?” she continued, looking a little confused.

“Yeah, I threw up on the plane here but that was because of turbulence”

“That’s no good,” she frowned, “But you’ve had headaches too?”

“Yeah,” Shoyo nodded, “ And I’ve taken painkillers when they’re really bad but they’re suddenly a lot more regular.”

“Headaches aren’t usually a part of food poisoning, but it might be some sort of symptoms from the mix with your hormone shots,” she mused aloud but Shoyo could tell she was sceptical.

“And you haven't had any sudden bleeding?”

“N-no,” Shoyo quickly replied, stumbling over the word. He was still horrified by the memory of his younger self having to handle that.

“And you and your partner still have safe sex?”

Shoyo pressed his lips together. There was a small voice in the back of his head yelling for him to face facts, a worrying sense of fear crawling underneath his skin.

“Well, al-almost always,” he finally admitted, feeling his face redden.

After all, Shoyo usually avoided this question. He never felt this sick in the first place so this conversation wasn't even necessary in his mind. Most times he didn’t feel too ill before getting his shots in the first place anyway. This was an exception.

“But not always?” she raised an eyebrow.

“No… but I’m clean, and so is he,” Shoyo frowned, trying to ignore the thumping in his chest. “And like, I never get a period or anything so it’s… it’s not trouble right?”

_‘Trouble.’_

She tied her hands over her desk, her blue nails short, probably cut to the length that was allowed for her job.

Her eyes met his and Shoyo felt himself deflate even before she spoke the words.

“You can still get pregnant, Hinata.”

“What?” he asked in a breathy laugh.

She didn’t laugh, just weakly smiled. Somewhere outside the office a phone rang. Shoyo stared at her in silence, the words repeated over and over in his head.

“Would you like to take a pregnancy t-”

“No,” Shoyo instantly interrupted her, his smile long gone. “I’m not pregnant.”

“Hinata,” she insisted, trying to give him a calm look, “You might not be, just like you’re saying. But if we want to figure out your recent symptoms it’s a probable cause we have to check for. If you’re not pregnant it might be something else. There can be issues with stress, of course, or you’re having a bad reaction to the hormone-”

Her words started fading into a far away mumble as he stared at a random spot on her desk, his skin crawling and hands sweating. He slowly turned his head down, eyes unfocused as he stared at his own body. He caught sight of one of his hands, looking at the worn nails, the traces of scars and the barely visible veins underneath the skin. He suddenly felt awfully out of body, like he wasn’t part of it, like it had never really been his.

It was horrifying. He felt cold with fear at the sudden realization. Shoyo felt like a pair of eyes, or maybe not even that; just a mind occupying a space where a body happened to sit. Forcing his hand to move just a little bit took more willingness than it should have.

“Can I do it at home?” he suddenly asked, realizing too late he had interrupted her. She didn’t look offended but carefully tied her hands over the table once more.

“If you want to test here we will do it for you. If you want to bring a test home yourself the pharmacy on the first floor will sell pregnancy tests,” Dr. Ito explained. She got up from her chair, walking back to her bookcase. On the desk beside it she dug around for something, coming back with a brochure. Shoyo took the moment to glance at his hand again, moving his fingers to make sure once more.

_‘Breathe, idiot.’_

_‘Focus on breathing.’_

“This brochure is the only one about transgender male pregnancies. These other two are on unexpected pregnancies but it’s directed to females, I’m sorry about that. I promise we’re working on it.”

“It’s fine,” Shoyo weakly replied, accepting them. He stared down at the first paper, some weird abstract art with red squares and triangles. The word PREGNANCY was all he could stare at, the kanji suddenly awfully ugly in his eyes.

All he could focus on was his stomach. He wondered if it had felt like this all the time, trying to stop tensing, hands shaking to touch his skin. He wasn’t pregnant. He couldn’t be. His stomach wasn’t protruding, he simply had to be more careful with Kageyama from now on.

“What-what do I do to not become-?” Shoyo asked, staring at her, trying to at least keep his composition outwardly. The armchair felt uncomfortable and cold, the headache exhausting but the panic worse.

“Condoms are the best, of course. But if you’re only having intercourse with your one partner you can take birth controls. There are a couple different ones but the pills are the most common here in Japan. They will work with your hormones too.”

“I- I want that. Please,” he frowned. He still might not let Tobio get close to him without a condom after this, he was sure. Preferably his boyfriend would have to wear one at all times.

“Hinata,” Ito said and he hated, absolutely despised the pity in her voice, “birth control will not help if you’re already-”

“I’m not,” he interrupted her again. “I,” he tried, uncertain of what to say. He had to get his thoughts straight. First priority was to get out of here.

“I wanna- I’m gonna head home and think about it,” he decided with a frown, getting to his feet.

“Shoyo, are you sure you’re okay?” she worried. Her calm composure was probably thoroughly practiced but he could tell she was getting nervous.

“Yes. I just need to think. Thanks for… today.”

It was an abrupt goodbye and definitely rude but Shoyo was starting to come apart at the seams. He had to get out.

He had planned to walk right past the pharmacy on the bottom floor of the hospital but his feet led him inside anyway, eyes scanning over the place. With his legs full of adrenaline and his mind almost foggy he picked up the pink box containing a pregnancy test, hiding it under some random sunscreen on sale in his hand as he waited in line. The old lady behind the counter gave him a brief once over before smiling as she bagged her items.

“Good luck,” she said as she handed him the receipt.

Shoyo automatically tried to smile back but it probably came out as an expression of fright, not trusting his voice in case he threw up instead.

He wouldn’t realize until later on the way home that the cashier probably assumed he was picking up the test for an imaginary girlfriend, not for himself. For a man to be the one buying the pregnancy test it was probably associated with couples trying for a child, not lost people with mistakes made or idiots like Shoyo.

He barely remembered the trip home but when he was safe behind the door Shoyo finally let go. And he cried.

Tears had started pooling as he ran down his street, hopefully hidden where he wore his cap, but a loud yell left his lips only when the door closed behind him. His sight turned completely blurry as he bawled into the silence of his house, his inhaling loud and shaky, hands cold and head pounding. His voice echoed around him, Shoyo harshly biting down on his lower lips to quiet his own sounds.

He barely kept his trembling legs from giving in, only just keeping himself from sliding to the floor. Instead he made it up into the hallway, getting his jacket on the rack while his shoes were violently kicked off. As one bounced away Shoyo only kicked it to the side, sobbing loudly as he tried to focus, vision blurry as he looked over the living room. It was still bright outside but the lights were turned off, the blinds of the windows drawn, creating a dimmed light over the living room.

“Fuck!” Shoyo exclaimed, throwing the bag across the room, listening to it hit something on the table before several things clattered to the floor. Shoyo could hear the ceramic cup smash, some plastic crinkle and then the loud exhaling as he panicked.

_How could he be so fucking stupid._

_Collect yourself, you fucking miserable idiot._

_Maybe it’s something else, you haven’t even done the test yet._

_Don’t be gullible, you don’t deserve luck. Of course it’s what you think it is._

_Fucking idiot._

_You fucking miserable idiot._

_You don’t deserve happiness._

_You fucked up._

_You were too oblivious, focusing on yourself._

_This is what you deserve._

_You fucking miserable idiot._

When Shoyo kicked the second chair over he felt a sudden punch of nausea hit him, dry heaving once before he made a run for the bathroom. His socks slid on the floor as he instead slammed into the wall of the hallway.

Only barely catching himself Shoyo fell to the floor on all fours, knees slamming onto the harsh floor before his stomach started pushing up the contents of that morning's breakfast. He struggled to breathe in between each wave, eyes watering as he blinked, soiling the floor beneath him.

A minute later Shoyo fell back against the wall, his knees aching, stomach empty, mouth burning and his breathing heavy. His eyes caught sight of the ceiling window above him, the sun no longer shining through.

***-***-***

Getting off the bus with a jump Tobio nearly walked into a kid on a bike, dodging just in the last second. Turning to look at the kid he glared at her departing back, rolling his eyes before heading towards his house. He was almost halfway through the volleyball podcast he usually listened to, listening to them babble about a retired player’s best games and goals.

His neighbor stepped outside his gate when Kageyama rounded the corner of the street, politely giving the older man a small nod. He couldn’t remember his name but Shoyo had talked about him before. In his yard two painters were working on the facade, the muddy grey turning into a bright white. Tobio assumed that would be a nightmare to clean. Perhaps he was putting it up for sale.

Finally unlocking the door to his own house Tobio came to a stop. Closing the door behind him he then removed his earphones, frowning at the darkness. Taking the stairs in quiet steps he discovered the hallway and open space a mess.

The mirror in the hallway was broken, two of the chairs in a heap on the floor, a large gash in the wooden floor. A cup was smashed under the table, trash like a plastic bag and a random sunscreen bottle in the pool of cold tea that was spilled on the floor.

And his boyfriend wasn’t far away, just across the room on the couch.

***-***-***

Tobio carefully set down his sports bag as if to not disturb the silence, walking over to Shoyo. He could probably tell he had been crying, Shoyo’s eyes red, cheeks still flushed. He definitely smelled like vomit too.

“Shoyo? Are you okay?” was the first thing he asked, lifting the blanket from his upper body, making sure he wasn’t hurt or anything. Shoyo stayed still, exhausted and bordering on apathetic from his earlier outburst.

He didn’t say anything either, not brave enough to meet Tobio’s eyes just yet.

“What happened,” Tobio asked, kneeling in front of him as there was no reply. When his hand moved to Shoyo’s head the shorter gulped but didn’t scare, already exhausted from his earlier panic. His wrist was still aching, perhaps it was sprained. The mirror might’ve broken but at least there weren’t any marks on the wall.

Perhaps the concrete walls of this place hadn’t been a bad idea after all.

“Did you do this?” Tobio calmly asked, Shoyo tiredly closing his eyes. For once Shoyo wished Tobio hadn’t come home yet.

His mouth was still burning, gums aching from the acid his stomach had pushed up earlier. He had washed his mouth out as much as possible but nothing helped.

Finally he parted his lips, his voice coming out as rough. “I fucked up.”

Moving from his position on his knees Tobio sat down on the floor, crossing his legs. His hand in Shoyo’s hair was still there, starting to run through his locks.

It felt wonderful so Shoyo knocked his hand away.

“What happened?” Tobio asked nonetheless and Shoyo could hear the change in his attitude without even looking at him. He was still calm and careful but there was an underlying sense of worry and probably even anger there.

“At first I didn’t want to tell you,” Shoyo started, his voice barely a whisper. His rough voice gave away the fact that he had obviously been screaming earlier. It was a wonder the neighbors hadn’t heard him. The pros of thick walls and big lawns, Shoyo assumed.

“I was just going to go and take care of it and never tell you,” he explained, “But I realized that wouldn’t be possible. Because I can’t keep my mouth shut and then you’d find out and that wouldn’t be fair of me. If you were planning to marry m- someone like me you don’t deserve dishonesty.”

“Shoyo,” Tobio sighed, probably eager to reach out for him again but keeping his hands in his lap in case he would get pushed away again. “What are you on about? I don’t understand. Just tell me.”

“Why do you stay with me?” Shoyo asked instead, eyebrows furrowing like he was confused. His speech was slow and sluggish, almost like he was drunk. Tobio wouldn’t smell any alcohol on him because there hadn’t been any, Shoyo’s mind getting fucked up on its own. He noticed his boyfriend’s fingers were twitching where he held onto his own knee. Perhaps he contemplated whether Shoyo had taken drugs or not.

“What’s gotten into you?” Tobio whispered, “Just tell me what happened.”

“I’m sorry,” Shoyo sniffled, then he laughed at his pathetic self pitying. “You don’t deserve someone as shit as me.”

“Fucking-” Tobio cursed, Shoyo watching his hand clench, “Tell me what’s going on, Shoyo, _please_.”

Alright.

“I, uh, I didn’t know I had to use birth control,” Shoyo said, surprised by his own words, his own voice.

“Birth… control?” Tobio asked, his eyes widening.

“It was my responsibility,” he continued, finally meeting his eyes. “It is my responsibility to know what I can and can’t do because of my body, because of this…. And I wasn’t… I was too ignorant to even consider it because I didn’t like the thought of even _thinking about it_. And I could’ve prevented it but I was too busy closing my eyes to it because I’m a dumb fucking idiot,” he weakly laughed, sniffling afterwards. “I preferred to… just not think about it. Because if you _think about it_ , it can’t happen, right?”

Shoyo listened to Tobio’s breathing, watching the emotions on his face go from shock to confusion to fear. The fact that this was his fault, that he was making Tobio feel like this made Shoyo’s chest clench, his lips pressing tightly against each other.

_He was so dumb._

_So fucking dumb._

“Did you- you…?” his boyfriend tried to speak and if Shoyo hadn’t felt like shit he would’ve probably laughed.

“I took two tests. Both said I was… you know.”

Shoyo knew he was childish for not saying it but he didn’t feel like struggling, he was too tired.

“Since when can you become pregnant?” Tobio asked, apparently having no trouble with the word, sitting completely still on the floor.

Shoyo slowly sat up on the couch, blanket slipping off of his body. His hair was a mess, his eyes red and headache just as bad as before. “I didn’t know I could be, honestly.”

“Holy shit,” Tobio breathed, looking around the room like he was searching for the words, like he would perhaps find them on the wall behind Shoyo’s head.

Glancing down at his hands in his lap in shame Shoyo continued, “I looked online and apparently it’s not common that it happens. Especially since I don’t, you know, bleed. But it’s not impossible.”

Looking to the side Shoyo coughed. “A-fucking-pparently.”

“Holy shit,” Tobio repeated, his face seeming to pale. “How- do you know how long?”

“Before Australia at least. I mean we usually use condoms but… I mean, it doesn’t matter,” Shoyo gulped.

With a shaky breath Shoyo straightened his back, once more avoiding Tobio’s eyes. He couldn’t hesitate, he had to be clear. To both of them, to himself just as much. There wasn’t any other option.

“I’m going to get rid of it on Wednesday. The office is closed right now but I’m not sure I want to go to the drop-in clinic anyway, so I booked online…”

Just like that. Like ripping a band aid. Now don’t lose your momentum.

“-And I’m sorry about the apartment, I sort of freaked out. I cleaned up in the hallway but one of the- one of the chairs broke too so I…” he trailed off as he felt his stomach move. Even though he knew it was just hunger he froze in place. It had been growling earlier too but he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to keep anything down.

Tobio’s hands slid up onto his legs again, over the blanket, holding on. “How did you find out?” he asked, his voice seemingly a bit more collected now, “Did you get the shot?”

“No,” Shoyo shook his head, finally letting Tobio touch him, allowing him to gently grab his hand, “I talked to her about the headaches and shit. When she asked if I had safe sex I told her the truth.”

His boyfriend nodded, glancing down the floor again. He was probably still in shock, his eyes wide open as he stared at nothing, his neck and cheeks red.

Shoyo knew it was because of the fatigue and from his stomach rejecting the food he had eaten but he felt awfully cold. All he had on was the black, long sleeved shirt he had gotten into after a shower he barely remembered taking an hour or so ago.

“I’m so fucking mad at myself, Tobio,” he sighed in frustration, “If I had just not avoided those conversations at the doctors and nurses before and lied, like I did at first, this could’ve all been avoided. It would’ve been annoying having to take pills or get that thing in your arm- whatever. But it would’ve prevented this. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Shoyo looked over the room, back to the mirror. “And I even broke your mirror. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Tobio promised, seeming relieved Shoyo was talking properly. “You didn’t hurt your hands, right?”

Holding up his hands Shoyo let his boyfriend examine them both, suppressing the jerk motion to pull his limbs back. He still didn’t feel like he deserved this care and attention Tobio was giving him. Shoyo had fucked up and he shouldn’t be treated like this, this kindly.

In actuality Shoyo thought it would’ve been easier if Tobio had been mad.

Instead he asked a question that made Shoyo’s heart break, wishing his boyfriend would’ve kept it to himself. That he would’ve kept his mouth fucking shut.

“So you’ve already decided?”

Shoyo stared at him in silence, clenching his jaw. He knew what Tobio meant, a tiny part of Shoyo himself had asked earlier too. Clearing his throat he forced himself to calm down, to stay on track and to not lose it again.

“There’s no other option,” Shoyo said, shaking his head. Pulling his hands free from Tobio’s grip he cautiously watched his boyfriend, almost out of fear. He felt terrified by this entire discussion.

“I’m still… shocked,” Tobio admitted, looking down at his own hands. “And I didn’t know you could become- that you could have kids. I thought it wasn’t possible because of the medication and whatever,” he waved his hand, “And I know you always say I’m bad with kids. And we haven’t really talked about it before, I know you love kids and you’ve alluded to maybe wanting some when we got older and I know I haven’t really mentioned it but so do I. I-I don’t mind adoption if that’s what you want but-”

“Don’t.” Shoyo spat, having to bite his own tongue, his voice cracking. He felt like a ticking bomb, his breathing calculated and concentrated.

“Don’t what?” Tobio argued, frowning up at him.

Shoyo moved back on the couch, pulling up his knees. “I’m not a woman.”

This time Tobio groaned, clearly tired of this argument. “I didn’t say you were, calm down. If you’re so disgusted by the idea then that’s your decision to make.”

Shoyo stared at him, waiting for him to finish.

Tobio stood up, picking up Shoyo’s discarded shoe and tossing it back towards the entrance of the door where their other shoes were. He thought the argument was over but then he heard his boyfriend mumble under his breath.

“Fuck what I want, right?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Shoyo instantly confronted him, unaware he was yelling, “This has nothing to do with you.”

“Exactly. Nothing to do with me or anything. So fuck my opinion,” Tobio replied, throwing open the door to their storage, taking out the broom and dustpan.

Shoyo watched as he picked up the larger pieces of ceramic, putting them on the counter without being as careful as he probably should be with the shards.

“Why are you angry?” Shoyo breathed, staring at him. Something in his chest was hurting again, his hands trembling where he gripped the blanket so tightly his fingers were turning white.

Tobio dropped the broom to the floor, the plastic clanking against the wood, turning to Shoyo with dread on his face. The expression alone made Shoyo want to cry, not to mention he was the cause of it.

“Because I never get in between you and your issues even when you put words in my mouth,” Tobio tried, something evidently having snapped inside him. “Like just now, again insisting you’re not a woman when I have never, ever said that. At least not after I got to know you properly. And I don’t question what you do when it comes to this shit because it’s _your_ shit to solve and I’m just an idiot and I don’t know anything.”

Shoyo gulped, staring at him, teeth digging into his tongue in his mouth. The atmosphere tasted sour around them, the air almost crackling.

“And I’ll take you when you’re sad and I’ll take you when you’re upset, Shoyo. And when you hate yourself I’ll convince you you’re being an idiot, every time,” Tobio yelled, his voice faltering. He cleared his throat, “But for this one fucking time you didn’t even consider my opinion and you’re right, shit, it’s not about me, it’s your decision… but I’m supposed to be your boyfriend, am I not?”

Shoyo felt his heart drop as he realized he truly didn’t deserve Tobio. He had to be the only cause for this man’s anguish in life. Shoyo constantly fucked up, not only for himself but for others. Even for the man he loved the most. He truly wasn’t worth shit.

Yet, no matter how bad he felt nothing was greater than the terror Shoyo felt at the thought of whatever else was an option. He wouldn’t even consider it. He didn’t want to.

“This,” Shoyo declared, slapping a hand onto his stomach while staring Tobio straight into his eyes, “was a mistake.”

“But what if it’s not?” Tobio countered, the dustpan clattering to the floor too. He walked back up to Shoyo in four quick steps. Either he was still too scared to touch him or he was afraid Shoyo would push him away because he stopped right in front of him.

“What do you mean?” Shoyo whispered, absently shaking his head in denial to whatever Tobio was instigating.

“It’s almost impossible for us to have a child but there’s a possibility? Shoyo, I-”

“Since when do you want to have children? You’ve never mentioned it,” Shoyo breathed, crawling backwards on the couch.

“I didn’t think it was possible,” Tobio cried, “I didn’t let myself think about it or even wish because it wasn’t a possibility. Even adoption would be a fucking crazy struggle and definitely impossible in our country.”

“So you want me to keep it? Are you fucking crazy?” Shoyo yelled, jumping at his own voice raised much higher.

Tobio weakly laughed. “A-fucking-pparently,” he repeated Shoyo’s earlier words.

“Fuck you,” Shoyo whispered, getting to his feet, nearly falling because of the blanket around his body. He had to move, he had to do something. He had to get out.

“Shoyo,” Tobio called, following him right behind. When a hand grabbed his arm Shoyo was ready for it, digging his nails into it to get it off. When his boyfriend tried again Shoyo threw a punch.

He only barely missed his jaw and instead knocked against his shoulder, Tobio stumbling backwards.

“Sorry,” Shoyo whispered as a reflex, staring at him wide-eyed, “but don’t fucking touch me.”

After hurriedly getting into his shoes Shoyo grabbed his jacket, struggling into it as he headed towards the door. The tears wouldn’t come, he had cried too much today, but he felt the same sort of nausea as earlier. He needed air.

“I’m going,” he declared, reaching for the door.

“What? Where?” Tobio begged behind him, the hurt in his voice making Shoyo feel like he was getting shot. He could tell he was about to cry, that both of them were.

“I just… I need to get out.”

***-***-***

A row of vending machines lit up a business street, only a few restaurants and shops open along the road with the early night having fallen over the city.

Sitting on a concrete fence of sorts Shoyo sipped on a can of vegetable soup, burning his tongue in his impatience. He felt like he should be able to keep the food down, his hunger back, the feeling of something warm running down his throat pleasant.

Across the street was a love hotel, neon signs with hearts and arrows blinking in the dark, Shoyo watching couple after couple entering and leaving. An older man left alone in front of him and only a minute later another man walked outside, looking around the street before scurrying off in the opposite direction.

He was all out of tears so Shoyo was left to suffer in silence, which he supposed was good in case a kind stranger tried to console him otherwise. He kept hearing Tobio’s words in his head, the sight of his boyfriend on the floor.

After Shoyo finished his dinner he picked up a bread bun from a cafe that was just about to close, Shoyo bringing it with him as he looked for another type of hotel. He soon found one with a more regular business-looking theme.

He entered the lobby, absently sidestepping the pattern on the stone floor. It didn’t look too fancy nor too cheap, a glass encased smoke room right by the entrance.

A blond woman in a suit exited the elevators, her heels clanking on the floor as she hurried outside. She was speaking on the phone in a foreign language, some words familiar to Shoyo so perhaps a Romance language of sorts.

“Do you have any rooms for tonight?” he asked the receptionist, taking out his wallet. Patting his other pocket he realized his phone was left back home. Fuck.

“What sort of room do you require? A single bed or double?” she asked, her hair in a tight ponytail. Just like the other two ladies she had an orange hair band on, similar in color to the logo of the hotel.

“A single bed is fine. Just for tonight.”

“Of course sir. Are you from here?”

“No,” Shoyo lied, leaving his card on the desk for her to take. She briefly explained their facilities and Shoyo thought about going to the gym. He wasn’t sure his headache would let him though.

In the end he didn’t sleep much that night. The room was really plain and quite small yet it wasn’t something Shoyo minded at the time. The enclosing space felt comfortable, somehow. Like he wanted to hide himself away. Not too many corners or too much space taken up by nothing.

Sitting up in the bed Shoyo rubbed his hands over his head, glancing outside, the morning sun lightning up the sky but still not high enough for him to see it above the tall buildings outside. The business district was already booming by 4 in the morning, cars honking and suitcases being dragged across the asphalt where people hurried to their workplaces.

Shoyo still didn’t have a clue of what to do.

The sheets were a similar orange to the rest of the theme of the hotel, reminding him of the Kurasuno colors. Trailing his hand over them he looked at his hand again, bending his fingers and imagining the tendons moving underneath the skin. He knew what he had felt yesterday was dissociation to his body, and it hadn’t been the first time. It had been a long fucking while since though.

Apart from volleyball Tobio was a massive role in that. He always kept him distracted, kept him happy. Always put up with his bullshit.

Sighing Shoyo dragged himself off the bed, aware he wouldn’t get any more sleep by then. He wanted to go home.

When he was checking out he had to listen through a five minute tour of the local restaurants from the same reception lady since he had told her he wasn’t from the area yesterday. He listened to her talk about them, having eaten at or ordered from most of them already.

The weather was nice outside, Shoyo wishing he had brought sunglasses with him yesterday. His hood had to do and with his bloodshot eyes and pale face he no doubt looked like a sad example of a human where he walked back home almost like a dog with its tail between its legs.

The building next to theirs was half-white, Shoyo suddenly realized after passing their neighbors long hedge of rose bushes that was just too tall to cover the redheads view. Shoyo came to a brief stop. He figured Mr. Kim was in the middle of repainting it. He had talked to him a couple of times, Shoyo always polite to their neighbors and social enough to strike short conversations. He knew Mr. Kim was thinking of upgrading the family house since his daughter and her family would be moving in from Taiwan.

Shoyo took a step closer to his hedge even though he felt a bit stupid and carefully tugged one of the branches down. Without pricking his finger on one of the spikes he leaned closer to smell the flower. It was sweet, perhaps a bit grassy. It smelled like summer. Like the flowers from Natsu’s graduation.

He glanced down the street at his own house, the street mostly quiet around him.

Shoyo carefully closed the door behind him, trailing up the stairs with careful steps in case he was still sleeping. As he made it up he caught sight of him by the table instead. He had breakfast in front of him, his eyes meeting Shoyo’s as he chewed his food.

The blinds were still closed, the room cast in a mostly subtle darkness while the ceiling windows still gave in light. It almost made it look like they were underwater. One of the rectangles of light was cast on half of the kitchen table and the floor beside it, like it was a spotlight. The place Shoyo would take the stage.

“Hi,” Shoyo was the first to speak, walking around the sunlight and getting a bowl of what Tobio was eating. It looked like rice and leftover curry.

“Where did you go?” Tobio asked when Shoyo took his spot opposite him, looking at him across the table.

“To a hotel,” Shoyo replied.

“Didn’t they have breakfast?” Tobio asked, chopsticks clanking against the side of his bowl. He was still agitated.

Shoyo realized his food wasn’t that warm anymore but he couldn’t be bothered, scooping some of it up nonetheless. It tasted wonderful anyway.

“It was mostly western breakfast,” he replied, “And the normal dish was pak choi.”

“Unlucky for you.”

Shoyo sighed. “Unlucky for me.”

They ate in silence, Shoyo despising the silence. He wished it had all never happened in the first place, that he could be cuddling in bed with his lover after a night well spent fucking since he usually got a hit of the horny after a shot. But alas there was no shot yesterday, no wild fucking and no cuddling.

“I’m sorry I panicked,” Shoyo said after putting down his cutlery, the bowl wiped clean. He was still hungry, might even go for one of the frozen foods in the freezer.

Tobio placed one elbow on the table, resting his head in his hand, food also finished. His palm covered his mouth and his sigh from his nose was loud. “It’s fine. I’m sorry I didn’t… exactly try to calm you down.”

Taking the two bowls to the counter Shoyo went to place them in the dishwasher only to discover it already full. Tobio must’ve run it yesterday after his dinner. Shoyo started unloading the clean dishes, trying to be as quiet as possible with each clank of a plate and scrape of cutlery.

“Do you,” he started, back to Tobio and only half focused on the task, “do you really want a child? With me?”

The silence was nerve wracking, Shoyo shutting the drawer and placing the breakfast bowls in the now empty washer. After enough silence he finally turned around, his uncertain eyes meeting Tobio’s tired ones.

“I do,” his boyfriend replied when Shoyo looked at him. “I think you would be a great father, probably much better than me.”

Shoyo rubbed his wrist, the pain from yesterday mostly gone.

“And like I said yesterday it wasn’t something I had really considered since I also wasn’t aware we could naturally have one,” Tobio added.

“It wasn’t- it was never your responsibility to know such a thing. That’s completely on me, okay?” Shoyo quickly argued.

Tobio didn’t reply, Shoyo leaning back against the counter with a small sigh.

“I feel like it was only yesterday we were fifteen years old,” he admitted, uncertain eyes sticking to the floor.

“We’re closer to thirty than to fifteen,” Tobio said and Shoyo frowned at those words, having to do the math.

“What about- Okay, let’s say we did this, right now. That I didn’t get rid of it… what about our careers?” Shoyo frowned.

“What about them?” Tobio shrugged.

“I can’t continue to play if I’m c-carrying a fucking child. The world would also find out that I’m… you know, trans.”

“We don’t have to say anything to anyone,” was Tobio’s reply to that. Shoyo snorted loudly.

“You don’t think me getting a fucking massive belly out of a sudden will raise some eyebrows? What should I say? That I got a sudden unhealthy obsession with beer?”

“I don’t like giving you the option I’m thinking about but it’s the only one I can think of,” Tobio frowned at himself, “but it would be possible if you took a break from playing. Then again, this all comes back to the fact that this is entirely up to you.”

“It is,” Shoyo agreed with a nod, “and I’m thankful you see that. But I agree with what you said yesterday. Your opinion isn’t irrelevant, you are my boyfriend. Hell, I’ll even be cheesy and call you my better half, the best person I could find in life and all that stuff,” he got out with a choke and weak laugh. He had to quickly think about something else since he felt the tears threaten to fall once more, just at the thought of possibly losing Tobio over this. Of how much he loved him.

“I love you,” he said, because he felt like he should. Because he wanted to tell him. “And I should listen to your opinion, it’s worth so fucking much to me. No matter how I behaved yesterday- no matter how I might act when I panic.”

Shoyo bit his lip, thinking back to Dr.Ito’s words when she first mentioned a probable cause for his recent nausea. Perhaps there never was any bad shrimp and maybe the turbulence was just a coincidence. He had been peeing an awful lot too recently, hadn’t he? Perhaps it should’ve been obvious.

He heard the sound of Tobio’s chair move, watching his boyfriend in the corner of his eye walk up to him. With a gentle hand Tobio took Shoyo’s hands in his, holding them between his own, arms relaxed. He almost expected him to start swinging them between the two, like a child.

"I know you're thinking about it,” the taller of them said, “That you're conflicted about it, about the decision. Because otherwise you wouldn't have reacted like you did.”

"I'm mad," Shoyo muttered.

"Okay. You want some ice cream?" Tobio asked.

"No, I'm mad at myself. And the thing is,” Shoyo began, putting his thoughts into words so Tobio would understand his hesitance, apart from the fact that he was absolutely petrified by the idea of growing another person inside himself, something he had never even considered for more than a second in his life.

“...I would also have to stop taking my shots, I imagine. Which would-” he trailed off, swallowing. His fingers twitched in Tobio’s warm hands.

“What happens if you do that?” his boyfriend asked, curiosity innocent.

“I’m mostly aware of what won’t change,” Shoyo admitted, thinking back to his first consultations with his doctor, the ones he had done together with his mother way back. “I know my voice will stay the same, at least. But I will get the, uhm, the period thing, you know.”

Tobio narrowed his eyes in thought. “...but not if you’re pregnant, right?”

“Oh,” Shoyo realized, “Yeah, that’s true. I think.”

“Shoyo,” Tobio sighed, leaning back a little. His breath smelled like curry. “If you’re sure about this and you’ve made up your mind then that’s okay. And now might not be the time, you’re right about that. It’s still a possibility later in the future, right? If-”

“But that’s the thing,” Shoyo interrupted him with a grunt, lips pursed. “I learned that it’s incredibly rare to get, uh, pregnant while you’re on hormones. So if we- say we want to have one later? I would have to stop taking the shots and- and even then not everyone can get pr- knocked up. Fuck.”

Feeling Tobio’s arms enclose around him, pulling him towards his warm body felt fucking wonderful. Shoyo closed his eyes and breathed him in, definitely one of his favorite scents. A thousand times better than the pretty, yellow roses. And he was wearing a soft shirt, Shoyo pushing his cheek against the fabric which was much cozier than the stretchy material of Tobio’s athletic clothes he usually wore.

“Maybe we should talk to someone about this. Ito, for example,” Tobio said above his head.

“Okay,” Shoyo agreed.

They held each other for a minute or two, Shoyo feeling himself get a bit sleepy. But he had another priority first.

“I’m still hungry,” he admitted against Tobio’s shirt.

“I’ll make you something,” he heard his boyfriend mumble against his hair above him, giving his head a kiss before stepping away. Shoyo watched him get out a bag of frozen broccoli and toss it on the counter.

Jumping up onto the counter Shoyo got comfortable to watch Tobio work, stealing a kiss every now and then when he passed. He didn’t even try to hold in his laugh when he watched his boyfriend try to show off by cracking an egg with one hand only to drop the entire thing into the pan. Tobio dug around the pan to try to get all the shell pieces out while Shoyo leaned back a little bit, putting on some music.

He still didn’t completely feel like himself. It was difficult not thinking about everything that had been going on, to make sense of it.

 _‘It will be alright though,’_ Shoyo thought. _‘Unlucky for me.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the late update but I had to give this chapter a bit more time. The "plot twist" may have been obvious by some who probably saw it coming, but it might not sit well with everyone. So I wanted to give it a bit of time, reread it again and make sure I keep it true to reality. The next chapter will obviously go into thing more. I base most of my research on an article by Alexis D. Light, Juno Obedin-Maliver, Jae M. Sevelius and Jennifer L. Kerns on ftm pregnancy which you can find [here](https://www.researchgate.net/publication/268216431_Transgender_Men_Who_Experienced_Pregnancy_After_Female-to-Male_Gender_Transitioning) if you're curious. 
> 
> An added thanks to a little anon who hmu with a bunch of typos this chapter initially had. ♡
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading. Be safe out there in the real, scary world!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long with this chapter. Hope you dig it ♡

Shoyo’s eyes slowly opened, his face met by the faded sunlight of their bedroom windows. He had a side-way view of their small backyard through the glass, his eyes following the automatic lawn mower slowly crawling its way forwards over the grass.

The previous owners used to have a gardener hired but Tobio cancelled it when he moved in, not seeing the need for it. Natsu had promised at one point that she would plant some flowers and bushes but then never got around. The few times she came over they were usually busy doing other things.

Now it just looked flat and grassy, a wispy, alone maple tree to the left, the leaves starting to orange with the change of season.

A deep exhale against his nape made Shoyo shiver and unconsciously burrow closer to Tobio’s body behind him.

“Morning,” a rough voice grumbled, the sound vibrating right through Shoyo’s back. It was familiar, the feeling a little bit exciting yet also comforting.

The arm resting over his side, palm on his stomach then moved, creeping up to his waist instead. “Sorry,” Tobio whispered and Shoyo clenched his teeth.

“It’s okay,” he replied, glancing over his shoulder and only catching sight of a mop of black hair in the corner of his eye. The hand on his hip caressed his skin but made no movement to move back to his stomach.

They had spent the majority of yesterday at home, an impromptu movie marathon as Shoyo tried to make sense of things. Neither of them attempted to go for any exercise and they even ordered food for lunch and went out for dinner since the suggested restaurant didn’t have takeaway nor delivery.

The hand on Shoyo’s hip moved up a little, ticking the skin over his ribs before moving down over his back. Shoyo couldn’t help the sly smile falling onto his lips when Tobio started groping his butt, gently kneading his fingers against one of his cheeks.

To his surprise he didn’t feel discouraged nor resistant. It felt nice and made him feel a little warm, suddenly very much in the mood compared to yesterday.

With his arm still under the sheets Shoyo moved his hand over his own back, feeling Tobio pause as if he was expecting Shoyo to push him away. Instead he continued, moving past his own ass which his boyfriend was still grabbing, to blindly fall on Tobio’s hip behind him. His arm was in an awkward position but it didn’t take Shoyo long before he slid his hand in underneath Tobio’s underwear, finding that yes, his boyfriend had morning wood.

They stayed like that for a minute, Tobio worshipping Shoyo’s thighs and ass while his lips caressed his shoulder and neck, Shoyo eagerly getting Tobio harder and harder in his hand.

When the exciting tingle in his stomach got too much Shoyo arched his back slightly, also noticing his breathing was heavier. Gently but determined he tugged with his hand, pointing his boyfriend’s cock in the direction he wanted it.

It took Tobio a couple seconds to get the message but when he paused for a moment before thrusting in Shoyo’s grip, as a question, Shoyo hummed in affirmation that _“yes, that's what I want. Get on with it then.”_

Shoyo could tell that Tobio was eager, probably still half asleep and achingly hard, but he was still gentle and sweet. He paid attention to Shoyo’s body as he carefully tugged down Shoyo’s boxers, kissing his nape before letting the fabric stretch just beneath his thighs. Moving closer he pushed one of his legs in between Shoyo’s only to bend his knee with one foot on the bed and tilt it back up, Shoyo’s leg hooked behind his, leaving his legs spread.

When he slipped inside Shoyo had to bite his lip. With no preparation and only sleepy foreplay he was tight. Wet, but tight.

They fucked slowly, Shoyo closing his eyes as he focused on the feeling, his head rolling on the pillow. When Tobio’s hand moved away from in between his legs Shoyo whined, rocking back and forth from the cock still thrusting in and out of him.

“Touch yourself,” Tobio commanded behind him, Shoyo cursing wildly. It was rare for Tobio to be bossy in bed so Shoyo immediately took the chance to eagerly follow, moving his hips with the feeling. With both his hands now on Shoyo’s hips Tobio could speed up; go deeper, fuck him harder.

Yes his boyfriend didn’t speed up much. It would probably be called sleepy morning sex then, he supposed. Shoyo didn’t mind, as long as he went deeper with each thrust.

“Can I?” Tobio whispered behind him, having to repeat himself because Shoyo couldn’t hear him the first time.

“Wh-what?” he asked, distractedly frowning. He was getting closer, fingers desperately rubbing himself. As usual he loved to slip his digits lower just to feel Tobio’s length moving into him.

“Can I cum inside you?” Tobio clarified, his voice a whisper in Shoyo’s ear.

“Well that doesn’t matter now, does it,” Shoyo found himself joking, sentence ending in a whine when Tobio pulled him flush against his body. His hips twitched and his fingers were holding on hard against Shoyo’s hips but he needed just a little bit more, just a tiny, tiny bit-

“Fuck,” he groaned, pushing back as far as he could too, to get him even deeper as he finally clenched around him, reaching his goal.

Colorful specks of light swam around his vision and Shoyo almost wondered if he’d blacked out for a second. How damn long was it since they’d had sex? Not that long, right?

“That was quite intense,” Tobio agreed a minute later. They were still in bed, Shoyo having only gone to the toilet once before coming right back. The feeling of Tobio coming inside him was always sexy, however, it wasn’t as sexy when it had to come out. Then again with his current state in mind Shoyo laughed at the thought.

Tobio took his laugh as a reply to his statement, smiling at him.

“Well, I think we both needed it,” Shoyo hummed, turning towards his boyfriend, cuddling closer. Fuck, these moodswings were intense.

Tobio’s eyes were closed and Shoyo was suspecting him beginning to fall asleep once again. Looking down under the covers he noted that his boyfriend was completely soft again, so probably not in the mood for a second round. Yet.

“That was nice, wasn’t it?” Shoyo gently asked.

“Mhm,” Tobio hummed, eyelids still closed. Shoyo bit his lip.

“So… six weeks,” he offhandedly added and yup, Tobio’s eyes opened immediately.

Shoyo couldn’t hide the humor on his face.

Inhaling deeply, his boyfriend reached up to rub his eyes, next pulling Shoyo even closer. It actually wasn’t too warm in the bedroom, he noted. The temperature outside was proof of early autumn.

“Didn’t she say seven?” asked Tobio and Shoyo frowned, trying to recall what she’d said.

“Maybe,” he settled on, fairly certain she had said six .

Tobio and he hadn’t talked much post-dinner yesterday. In both of their opinions the cheaper version of wok was just as good but at least the place was very pretty. Especially the toilet which Shoyo had to heave over. He succeeded in keeping his food down but it was a struggle. After the nassau passed Tobio hurried him home, being annoyingly worried and obnoxiously sweet.

“So what are you thinking?” Tobio asked, his tone only a gentle whisper. Like he was shy.

“My chest fucking hurs and I’m peeing all the time,” Shoyo replied honestly.

“I’m sorry,” Tobio replied.

Shoyo rolled his eyes.

“I’ve gotta meet Yamamoto on Friday,” Shoyo said instead, wondering about his PT’s reaction to all of this. Not that he would tell him. Probably.

“You could cancel,” Tobio reminded him.

“I could,” Shoyo mused, grabbing Tobio’s hand from the pillow to play with his fingers, experimentally bending them backwards similar to how they would stretch before a game.

Tobio’s question hung silent in the air, Shoyo only had to flicker his eyes up to his face to see it was there. _‘Have you thought about it?’._

“I’m gonna go make breakfast,” Shoyo sighed instead.

***-***-***

“Fuck,” Shoyo cursed, jumping backwards when the bowl in his hands fell to the floor. The metal clattered loudly as the batter splattered everywhere, the noise echoing in the kitchen. Even Shoyo’s socks got covered.

“You clumsy- fuck!” he yelled to himself, throwing the whisk into the sink in frustration.

He didn’t pause for a moment before grabbing the paper towels, his pulse banging in his ears as he tried cleaning the mess. When that didn’t work he ripped the fabric towels of their hooks too, throwing them onto the spilled batter only to realize it might stain them.

Getting to his feet Shoyo quickly held the fabric under the water, at least careful not to burn himself. He could feel the tears of self pity start to form in his eyes, threatening to fall while his stomach churned in hunger.

Tobio appeared around the corner the next second, towel around his waist and hair still wet. In his hurry he almost slipped on the floor, catching himself on the island counter at the last second.

“Are you okay-”

“I’m okay,” Shoyo replied, perhaps a bit too loudly. “I’m not made of porcelain, Tobio. Normally you would- you would ask if I broke something or if I was being stupid.”

Tobio didn’t pause before replying, evidently not affected by Shoyo’s unconscious provocation. “I’m pretty sure I would still ask you if you were okay.”

“Yeah, fuck, you would,” Shoyo sighed. He closed his eyes for a couple seconds, leaning against the sink before he got back to the floor to clean up the rest. “I’m such a mess.”

“Did you fall?” the taller asked, walking over to turn off the stove since there wouldn’t be any cooking for a minute.

“No, I was just clumsy. My mind is a little occupied,” Shoyo said, realizing his words mid-sentence and insisting to himself to he calm down a little.

“Well…” Tobio started, scratching his naked chest, “Just don’t panic again. And don’t leave.”

Shoyo felt a part of him rising to the words, irritation crawling over his back at the words which Shoyo translated to _‘you’re acting crazy’._ Then he realized how irrational he was being, the sane side of him winning the inner argument as he realized Tobio was only scared.

“I won’t,” Shoyo sighed, getting to his feet to toss the shaggy, scrunched up paper towels. The whole kitchen smelled like egg.

When Tobio got started on a second batter Shoyo mumbled a thank you. Helping was okay, he decided. If Tobio had gotten to his knees and started cleaning the floor too though Shoyo might’ve been annoyed, especially considering his boyfriend just showered.

Finally finished, Shoyo cleaned his hands, glancing at Tobio cutting green beans just as his towel seemed to lose its grip and slide off his hips. Shoyo snorted at the sight, Tobio grunting as he was suddenly nude in their kitchen, too late to catch it with his hands occupied.

“Perhaps some clothes, chef?” Shoyo asked, placing a wet hand on Tobio’s hip, his boyfriend jumping away from him with a cry.

Tobio picked up his towel, looking a little grim. When he passed Shoyo to go dress he still stopped to give him a kiss, body leaning away in case Shoyo’s hands tried to reach again.

Taking the knife Shoyo paid attention to be careful, cutting the remaining vegetables in silence. It wasn’t an issue. Sure, Tobio was a great cook but Shoyo wasn’t absolute garbage. Usually. There were some things he’d learned to cook recently. Like goddamn vegetable tempura.

Shoyo stared down at the lotus root, his knife still on the cutting board. The cause of his stress was time, he knew that.

Essentially he was allowed many more weeks before he made a choice, which Dr. Ito had repeated many times. Yet the sooner he made his decision the less stress he would feel.

Shoyo cleared his throat, starting to wash the large vegetable.

By considering his two options for this long, wouldn’t that be in favor of keeping it? What if he made the decision to get rid of it, wouldn’t all the time spent wavering in between the choices make him even more affected?

So yes, there was still a time constraint, he decided. He couldn’t just dawdle on it forever because doing nothing made one of the decisions for him. And Shoyo wanted to decide.

Doing nothing would be the easier option, no doubt. In contrast, starting the process of abortion would be tough, but then not as tough in the long run.

Assumably.

He held the zucchini under the water, cleaning the rough texture while his mind was elsewhere. Sure, the initial… development of the incidence hadn’t been either of their choice, just a result of Shoyo’s ignorance and stupidity, really.

But he supposed that didn’t matter now; dwelling on the past and feeling sorry for himself. It was in his hands now and though it might be easy to just go with it once more, to not think about it too much, that would again result in something he didn’t decide for himself. No, Shoyo definitely had to decide properly this time.

_‘Damn, okay. Pros? Cons?’_

The cons were obvious. First on his list was volleyball. He wouldn’t be able to play, at least for a long while. A year, probably. Sure, if Shoyo was being optimistic and prepared to pay for a midwife or baby sitter to care for the child after it’s birth he would still have to hide for a couple months.

The result of a sudden baby might also out not only him but also Tobio and their relationship. What if it affected their careers? Shoyo couldn’t see any scenario where it wouldn’t. .

Not to mention that the idea of giving birth was terrifying. Shoyo had stayed away from videos on it, not sure he ever wanted to see them. Dr. Ito had spared him any details this far at least.

And then he weighed the pros.

Shoyo stopped with the meal preparations and slowly looked down at himself, something he had also avoided for the most part. He was still completely flat, his abs faded behind his shirt. He knew, he had checked that morning.

Placing a hand on himself felt odd though and he was carefully listening for Tobio to return, not wanting him to catch him like this. 

_‘Pros?’_ Shoyo thought, feeling his heartbeat pick up.

He remembered the sound of Natsu running around the house when they were younger, her laughter echoing through the hallways before her small body would slam into his legs, asking him to play with her.   
  
A shiver passed over his arms and he shuddered, but then realised in surprise that it wasn’t a bad feeling at all. 

***-***-***

Natsu and their mother came to visit the following weekend. It was a surprise visit but at least Natsu had the decency to message Shoyo in secret an hour ahead of time. No matter that it said _‘Better clean the apartment lol mom is on the way’_ , Shoyo still had a one minute mental breakdown before he broke out the vacuum cleaner.

But it was nice, spending some time with his family. His father was still stuck at home, apparently something to do with his friend’s company and Shoyo absently tuned out while his mother chatted on.

It was getting dark outside earlier and earlier, Shoyo noticing their neighbors already having put up their outdoor fairy lights. He tried to convince himself to get around buying one for them too this year. Their backyard was usually pretty damn dark during the winters, their solar cell lamps the only thing doing a semi-good job out there.

“I’ve got a boyfriend,” Natsu said when she and Shoyo were sitting on the couch later, a shared blanket over their legs.

Shoyo turned to stare at her, wide-eyed. “What?” he asked, voice cracking.

Tobio and Shoyo’s mother looked over from where they were discussing something over cleaning the dishes. According to Shoyo’s mother a dishwasher couldn’t do a proper job. It had something to do with the fact that she couldn’t see what “witchery” was going on inside, he recalled her admitting.

“Yeah, he’s from the Sado Island but his dad has a house in Sendai,” she continued, playing with the poofy, red fabric-bracelet thing she had around her wrist. Shoyo had been staring at it suspiciously during lunch, pretty sure it had been in her hair too at one point.

“Sado Island? Is he a farmer?” Shoyo asked, looking at her for any hidden information on this mystery boyfriend. The idea of his little sister dating some random guy made him feel surprisingly annoyed. Who did this guy think he was?

“He’s not,” she snorted, “dad said the same thing. No, he’s an engineer at this international company. Not sure if you’ve heard about it, it’s called Samsung.”

“Sounds indie,” Shoyo humored her. “What’s he like? Is he kind? Is he older?”

Natsu smiled, something in her eyes that Shoyo didn’t really catch. What was that look for? Why was she smiling so fondly at him?

“Wait, I’ve got a picture,” she said, getting her phone out again.

Shoyo’s grimache probably said enough. At least Natsu’s wonderful laugh that echoed through the room seemed to think so.

***-***-***

Shoyo was watching his Australia match on Youtube, noting down different pointers Yamamoto had given him after the last meeting. Shoyo had postponed going over them until now, the evening before he was initially supposed to meet him again. He ended up cancelling the meeting after all.

He had given him a call earlier and Yamamoto almost seemed eager to cancel as well. Perhaps he had some spontaneous plans. He gave Shoyo a bit of homework anyway, going over a few pointers and tips for his exercising.

The room was dark with the night having appeared earlier than Shoyo realized. When the entrance door opened he looked up only to realize his eyes were dead-tired from staring at the screen in the dark. Everything around him looked slightly blue.

Tobio turned on the light on his way up the stairs, giving Shoyo a lame wave in greeting.

“Hey, you watched my full game, right?” Shoyo hummed in question, pursing his lips as he looked down at the screen once more.

“The Australia game? Of course,” Tobio answered while he got out of his shoes, dropping his jacket twice before getting it on the hangar.

“Do you think I have a preference in my left arm while blocking from the right, when I’m jumping?” Shoyo asked, tapping the pen against his lip, “Yamamoto has it written down but I don’t know if I can see it in the video.”

“That’s oddly specific,” Tobio snorted, sitting down beside him, his sports bag left beside the couch. He had evidently showered after his training, smelling of the cheap body shower wash he insisted on bringing to post-game showers.

“Right?” Shoyo huffed, putting his pen down.

“How did it go?” he asked, scooting closer to him.

“The training we did was kind of lazy today, honestly,” Tobio said while he watched the muted tv screen where competitive swimming was playing, “The meetings were awkward.”

“As expected,” Shoyo nodded.

“Mhm, but I, uh, I actually got an offer,” Tobio swallowed, sounding nervous, “One I wasn’t really expecting.”

Shoyo blinked up at him, waiting for him to elaborate.

“So yeah, they need an exchange setter for transfer and I was offered,” he started and Shoyo’s eyes widened. “I wasn’t asked first, in fact I’m third in line I think. First they asked two Russian players but they were busy with local games so uh, I was apparently next in line.”

“Russian?” Shoyo exclaimed, surprised. “Is it international?”

“Yeah,” Tobio said and finally Shoyo noticed Tobio was really nervous. “It’s- it’s in Norway.”

Shoyo’s lips fell apart, his mind picturing Tobio sitting in one of the fancy meeting rooms at the Tokyo sports hall, listening to the offer being made. From Norway.

It was silent around them apart from Shoyo’s laptop fan whirring. Tobio bent down to his sports bag and fished out a folder of papers which had been nervously tugged at the edges, presumably by Tobio himself. They were entirely in English.

“Norway?” Shoyo finally exclaimed, sitting up straighter. “Where is Norway?”

“Uh, close to England and Sweden and stuff. I had to Google it,” Tobio admitted.

“Holy shit,” Shoyo gasped, typing out Norway on his own browser. And there it was, a link to the map of Europe and images of rocky mountains, vistas over lakes and wooden, bright red houses built right in nature.

It reminded him of the Moomin house for some reason.

“For how long?” he asked instead, his voice slightly lowered.

“For the preliminaries there it’s 3 months but, uh, coach says there might be an extension. If I work well enough with the team they’re looking for a permanent player. Up to one, two years I suppose,” he shrugged but nothing about his demeanor was casual.

“Holy hell,” Shoyo breathed, looking at the images again.

Tobio stared at the documents in his hands, stapled together in the corner. His profile was there, on the first page. The black and white picture of his face truly didn’t make him justice.

“Do you want to do it?” Shoyo asked.

“I don’t know,” his boyfriend absently replied and Shoyo corrected his question.

“No, but like, exclude me and the house and everything here. Do you want to accept the offer?”

Tobio’s thumb moved over some of the words in the text.

 _‘- a unique opportunity to play in a professional league in a country of-’_ Shoyo read, not completely sure what all of the words meant.

“Yeah,” Tobio finally replied, perhaps a bit hurried. “I mean, it would be a good experience. I work well with my teammates here but they… definitely leave something to be desired. Norway is better than us and they’ve seemed to have a good comradery the few times I’ve seen them.”

Then he frowned.

“But I mean,” he leaned back against the couch, “No. I’m not going to take it. It’s a country on the other side of the world with a completely different culture and language. Coach said they speak English but what if I’m asked to learn… Norwayish? Norwayian?”

“Norwegian,” Shoyo read from his browser.

“Yeah, that.”

It came to Shoyo later, while he was scrolling through Akaashi’s latest article on his news channel’s website. He turned to Wikipedia, scrolling through the categories. A country with high social standards it read, along with cold weathers and very generous same-sex laws.

The thought was wild and pretty bizarre but Shoyo let it tempt him for a minute. What if- What if he moved with Tobio?

It wouldn’t be Shoyo’s first rodeo. Rio was undoubtedly scary in the beginning, the fear of moving to another place a well engraved memory now. Shoyo curiously went to look up whether Portuguese was related to Norwegian but alas it was not, so his previous skills wouldn’t help.

“Do you know what a descaler is?” Tobio called from the kitchen.

“No?” Shoyo replied, still distracted by his sudden idea.

There was some muted mumbling in the kitchen, pots clanking. The TV behind Shoyo’s laptop switched to commercials once more, showing a white-clad woman running over a flower field in slow motion, some sort of supplement ad. Behind her crept tall, probably CGI created mountains, the snow reflecting in the sunlight.

Using Google Translate Shoyo searched for the Norwegian Volleyball Association, the same logo appearing as printed on Tobio’s documents, still lying on the table in front of him.

“N-norges-u Volleyball… for-bund-o,” Shoyo read to himself.

It wasn’t tricky to figure out, even without the translation tool, that _Sandvolleyball_ meant beach volleyball and by clicking it he was greeted by the two Norwegian players he’d met in Australia. The photograph pictured the two blondes were holding their bronze medals, for some reason biting into it.

“Do you want to watch Jurassic World?” Tobio asked a couple minutes later, carrying two bowls of soba with him. Shoyo was admittedly not in the mood for soba but Tobio enjoyed it so he didn’t say anything. He was craving some good shrimp though. Perhaps they could order shrimp tomorrow.

“But we watched it yesterday,” Shoyo pointed out.

“Oh, there’s a second one. The dinosaurs go to America,” Tobio explained as he sat down, doing a double take as he noticed Shoyo’s laptop screen. “What are you looking at?”

Shoyo twirled his chopsticks in the food for a second. “Just looking at it a little.”

Tobio was a warm presence beside him, his long legs resting on the table while his arm pressed against Shoyo. They had the whole couch to sit on and it was quite a large couch yet he still sat down right next to him by the corner.

Picking up one of the soybeans Shoyo popped it into his mouth. At least the sauce was pleasantly spicy.

“What if we went?” he found himself asking, not even attempting to try nonchalant.

“To Norway?” Tobio questioned, his eyes struggling to choose one thing to look at; the laptop screen, Shoyo’s eyes or Shoyo’s lips.

“Yeah,” Shoyo replied, realizing he was whispering. He cleared his throat. “I mean, it’s just a thought. I’d have to talk to… Yamamoto? Mom? Uh, to check how it would even work. But I mean… we have money-”

“It would be crazy,” Tobio breathed.

“A little bit, sure. I’m just humoring it for now,” Shoyo smiled.

Tobio’s eyes were large and Shoyo looked away when he realized a part of him was wondering whether Tobio also considered his reply one to a different question. A question he still hadn’t answered.

“I think I should talk to the psychiatrist Dr. Ito was referring to. Or maybe he was a consultant, I don’t remember,” Shoyo said, looking down at the noodles once more.

“Of course,” Tobio agreed and because he didn’t reply with confusion Shoyo knew he was also thinking about it. _The other issue._

“I’ll ask him about moving too. How-If it could work… and stuff,” Shoyo proposed and Tobio nodded beside him.

Shoyo turned back to the tv before carefully glancing at his boyfriend beside him. Tobio was staring off into the distance, his bowl of food forgotten in his hands. Outside the first few leaves from their single tree fell to the ground, colored red.

***-***-***

Dr. Suzaku, who insisted on being called Banjō, was a thin man with a receding hairline and a large pair of glasses. He looked quite traditional and Shoyo felt a bit afraid to unravel his secrets to this man, because what if this consultant would just criticize his life choices.

Then they got talking and Shoyo realized Banjō was first and foremost a family-man. He talked about the importance of children and teenagers staying happy with the help of good routine but still putting utmost importance on them feeling safe and not stressed.

“There’s a quote I like,” Banjō told him, “These mountains that you are carrying, you were only supposed to climb.”

Shoyo slowly nodded, his mind recalling the online images of Norway’s picturesque mountains.

“It’s from a Lebanese author. She writes a lot about activism.”

Shoyo didn’t know where Norway was before yesterday, he obviously had no idea where “Leban” was either. 

Shoyo smiled at him, leaning back a little in the arm chair. The office was surprisingly dark, at least compared to what Shoyo had experienced of past psychologists and psychiatrists. He’d had them when he was younger of course, though mostly reluctantly. It was a necessity to diagnose his gender dysphoria after all, and even though he shuddered at the memory of awkward talks with people in suits and ties he was thankful he got it over with.

“Now, I’ve been blabbering on for too long son. Why don’t we move to you,” Banjō chuckled, pushing up his glasses as he turned to the papers in his hands. His computer screen was black and the device quiet, the man perhaps not a fan of the distraction. Or maybe it was for Shoyo’s sake.

“I’ve got Dr. Ito’s notes here but I took note of her comment about the importance of secrecy in this case. As I understood it, there is something you have in private, a secret so to speak, that you keep with you yet you’re a public figure? Sometimes? I’ve respected your and her wishes nonetheless and stayed away from reading your file.”

Shoyo swallowed around nothing.

“All I know is that you’re a professional beach volleyball player. Since any medical needs or criminal records you might have are hidden in this folder, still unseen to me, I was hoping you could tell me instead,” he smiled.

“I, uh, I didn’t ask her to explicitly hide them,” Shoyo started by clarifying. He wanted to go back to them agreeing over today’s youth stressing too much but he knew he had to get this over with. It’s why he was there in the first place.

“Oh, that’s fine,” Banjō insisted. “I could also read them if you don’t want to tell me.”

“No, I. It’s,” Shoyo started, “No, I mean it’s fine. I, uh, I had some questions. On what to do and stuff, so first off I suppose it’s about moving. To another country. To, uh, Norway.”

Banjō blinked, seeming a little surprised. “Oh, moving abroad I see? Is it a work experience or for pleasure?”

“No I, I don’t think I’ll be working but maybe… maybe I could study a little or something? But my partner got the opportunity to work there and I had a look on their immigration website. Since I’ve played professionally I’m in a good situation, money-wise I mean.”

“I see, and is she a volleyball player too or does she do something else?” Banjō smiled.

Shoyo’s smile in reply was more of a grimace.

“My partner is a he,” he said, paying attention to the consultants reaction. It would ultimately lead to Shoyo continuing to speak to him or not.

“Oh, my sincere apologies,” Banjō instantly said, “I don’t attone for heteronormantive speech but then I go and do it myself, God.”

“Uh, it’s fine,” Shoyo insisted, worried the man was going to start bowing or something with how stressed he suddenly looked. Which Shoyo found a little ironic.

“So sorry. Your partner then- is he your husband?” Banjō continued, suddenly looking just as collected as a couple seconds ago.

“No, no,” Shoyo insisted, “but we’ve been dating for some years and he’s uh… I mean we both want to. But I guess we’re waiting for,” he paused, frowning a little.

“For the right time?” the consultant smiled kindly.

“Something like that,” Shoyo nodded.

“I see, so he’s gotten a work opportunity in Norway and you’re thinking about moving with him? That’s exciting.”

“He won’t move if I don't,” Shoyo scratched his chin, “I think he had pretty much discarded the idea completely until I started talking about the possibility. He’s a public volleyball player too, so- I mean not to question you but it’s-”

“All my work is confidential, don’t worry,” Banjō promised. “I’m proud of my record of never having had a single leak with any of my patients. I think that’s why Dr. Ito referred to me, actually.”

“Thanks,” Shoyo smiled sheepishly.

“So does your boyfriend play beach volleyball too? Excuse my ignorance but do they play a lot of beach volleyball in Norway? I thought it was always snowing in northern Europe,” Banjō hummed, clearly going for humor and Shoyo snickered.

“There’s two version of volleyball. My boyfriend plays indoor and I play beach, both of which are available in Norway. Their teams are actually really good, I got to play against the beach duo last month and they were seriously good. Very blonde,” Shoyo explained, brushing his hair absently. He had chosen a cap that morning in case someone recognized him outside but now he was left with bothersome hat-hair.

“You said you didn’t want to work there,” Banjō commented while writing something on his paper. Shoyo couldn’t read it from his spot in the comfortable leather armchair.

“Yeah,” Shoyo paused.

“Perhaps you could apply for a position on the beach team?” Banjō suggested, putting his pen down again, eyes meeting Shoyo’s.

“It’s not that common that beach volleyball players transfer over to other countries since there’s only two players in that sport. In indoor volleyball there’s six always on the court and usually like, the double on the team.

“Ah,” Banjō exclaimed, “Well, as you see I’m very uneducated on this sport.”

“That’s fine,” Shoyo promised, laughing a little awkwardly.

“But it couldn’t hurt to send in an application, right? Immigrating to another country helps if you’ve got work guaranteed,” Banjō said, “And since your boyfriend isn’t your spouse you can’t apply for the family immigration form.”

Shoyo bit his lip. _‘Get on with it,’_ he told himself.

“So the reason I can’t work is because I’m also pregnant,” Shoyo forced himself to say, accidentally hurrying with the words. At least he didn’t stutter.

“Oh,” Banjō exclaimed, catching his own surprise early this time and covering it by tying his hands together, leaning over the desk into The Psychologist Pose™, Shoyo absently thought.

“So your diagnosis, just to get it straight, is pseudocyesis? If you prefer me to call it something else, tell me,” Banjō said while slowly nodding.

Shoyo’s mind blanked completely, a crow cawing somewhere outside the office.

“... What?” he eventually asked, not having recognized the word at all.

“It’s modernly called false pregnancy too, or delusion of pregnancy but not too many patients like that term I’ve heard,” Banjō smiled gently. He was smiling a lot, Shoyo realized. Perhaps it was some super secret advanced tactic that made his patients talk more.

Shoyo stared at him for another silent moment.

“No, I… I didn’t know that was a thing,” Shoyo shook his head distractedly, “I have a, you know, uterus. I thought taking testosterone would stop me from getting pregnant but that, uh, turned out to be false.”

Banjō seemed to narrow his eyes slightly, still not catching on. To him, Shoyo assumed, he was still on the train of this pseudo- whatever it was called. False pregnancy he had said. If only, Shoyo scoffed inside his head.

“I’m transgender,” he finally decided to clarify and Banjō’s eyes lit up.

“Oh! I see!” he exclaimed and there was definitely something exited in his voice and the way he sat up straighter in his chair. The under-watered bonsai tree next to him dropped a couple fir needles when he bumped into it.

“Well, aren't you one unique case,” Banjō grinned.

Shoyo shrugged but the old man’s smile was contagious enough to make him smile back. “I suppose.”

“Alright, was that the final puzzle piece? Can I open your folder now?” Banjō asked, his finger playing with the edge of the folder. Shoyo laughed lightly, his heart beat slowly but surely returning to normal in his chest.

“I think so,” he supplied.

***-***-***

Banjō had helped a lot, Shoyo decided when he sat on the subway train back home. His mind was still packed with everything they’d talked about, the light tone Banjō had attempted to keep throughout their meeting leaving Shoyo feeling okay.

While Banjō hadn’t been an expert on Norway’s immigration policies or professional volleyball he did know quite a lot about unplanned pregnancies. He told Shoyo of two past anonymous cases where a transgender men had become pregnant, but more than that he didn’t reveal.

Apparently women falsely believing they were pregnant was much more common in the psychology world, thus his assumption.

Shoyo had wanted to know what choices the two previous transgender men had made but Banjō insisted it wasn’t his story to tell, merely that he had come across the phenomenon with his own patients only twice.

Banjō wouldn't give him a clear cut answer either but then again Shoyo had known he wouldn’t. A good doctor wouldn’t force a patient to make a decision anyway, certainly not on a matter like this.

The consultant asked him about his religious beliefs, his economic circumstances and family situation. By then end of their meeting he hadn’t exactly made a chart and said _‘Ah, yes, there are more points under Yes, so keeping the baby_ _it is’._ Not that Shoyo expected him to, but it would’ve still been easier that way.

What Banjō concluded was similar to what Dr. Ito had said; that the decision always came back to Shoyo. That yes, his partner had a say in it but it was fundamentally Shoyo’s body and his opinion mattered more. Even though Shoyo insisted he and Tobio loved each other very much and that they were in a happy relationship, though a bit frustrated about having to keep it secret, Banjō wanted to make it clear it came down to Shoyo in the end. He told him he’d seen way too many people keep a baby because of pressure from their partner.

“And those cases never end happily,” he had said.

Shoyo had to make up his mind. While Banjō had weighed the options with him, even discussing the possibility to… have a baby abroad. Fuck, Shoyo still had trouble thinking about it.

Opening his phone he typed _‘pictures of babies’, ‘pictures of child birth’_ and _‘diaper changing’_ , in that order.

It all terrified him horribly, there was no doubt about that. His initial panic was proof of that, and it had been years since Shoyo had such bad gender dysphoria.

Banjō had commented on it too. Told him he was a little surprised Shoyo wasn’t focusing on it more, the fact that a pregnancy more or less diminished his gender, in a way.

And by the end he had said the strangest thing. That while yes, it was a difficult decision to make Shoyo had unconsciously deconstructed the cons to having a child, every time they talked about one. 

Shoyo thought about it again, frowning. He wasn’t completely sure what he meant by that. 

The train rocked back and forwards but he was used to it, fingers playing with the edge of his phone case.

He locked his phone, the music still playing in his ears.

Of course he thought about it, his gender. But with age, apparently, resolution had come. He knew he was a man and so did the people who mattered to him, who were close to him. That’s what Shoyo valued. Sure, he had his episodes, times when he questioned himself and his body but that was all a part of the wonderful experience of dysphoria, Dr. Ito assured him.

And sure, he was still freaked out about carrying what could potentially become a life… but it wasn’t because of his body. He assumed if it was possible for cisgendered men to become pregnant, and if he had been born as one, he would still treat this entire thing similarly.

In reality and in secret Shoyo was more surprised his body could even do this. That _Tobio_ had done it to him, no matter how much that thought made him heat up. Because yes, he’d been born with the parts and although he was a little misinformed about their functioning status, he had still forgotten it had ever even been a possibility for him to _make a child inside his body_. Like what the fuck kind of human feature was that?

Shoyo had always feared this _human feature_ as a child and with conviction insisted it was never something he wanted. Adoption was always an option after all, something he knew he and Tobio would’ve looked into eventually. He had feared the day they did, if they wouldn’t be allowed to. Simply because they were two men.

Well, here was the other option. Surely not planned and scary as hell, considering Shoyo had to do all the work himself. But it was an option nonetheless. To have a child. 

Leaning back he knew he would have to talk about it with Tobio. He didn’t feel like he was getting anywhere.

Shoyo looked up into the ceiling, past the ads for beer and insurance. There was a single pink gum in the corner and a black line Shoyo tried figuring out how it had gotten there. It looked like a scuff mark from a shoe. Perhaps someone had been doing handstands in the subway cart.

At the next stop an older lady sat down opposite of Shoyo, her heels and brand bag shiny. She didn’t have any earphones in but picked up a book, struggling with the cover for a second. Shoyo caught the text anyway.

_‘Homoerotic werewolves lost in Tokyo’_

He looked to the side, pressing his lips tightly together to keep it together, trying really hard not to laugh.

Shoyo made it to his station before he was giggling on his entire way home.

***-***-***

Natsu, being the self-centered young adult she was, had forgotten two of her course literature books at their house. Shoyo had a creeping suspicion she had done it on purpose though he wasn’t sure how it would help her exactly.

While taking the time to post the two books via mail he took the opportunity to pass the pharmacy again. It had been Banjō’s idea to take another test, just to make sure. Dr. Ito had insisted that the hospital’s pharmacy only sold official tests, which were correct 90-something percent of the time, but Banjō told him it wouldn't hurt.

And what if he did take it and it showed a negative?

Alas, as he sat on the closed toilet looking at the little devices, both said positive.

“Remember, there is no stress,” Dr. Ito promised him over the phone.

Shoyo sat around in his pajamas, having gone for a jog which honestly felt wonderful. He felt a little sluggish at first but after reaching the forest it went much more smoothly, his mind free for a minute as he ran.

“I know,” Shoyo sighed into his phone. He glanced towards the hallway again, assuming Tobio would turn up any minute.

“Nonetheless, you would need to come in for an ultrasound before you can make further choices, Hinata. I have a few ultrasound techs in mind who I would like to refer you to, since secrecy is important.”

Shoyo grumbled a little, sliding further down his couch.

“You’re a doctor, can’t you do it?”

“Well… Yes, but I usually don’t deal with ultrasounds,” she replied after a short pause, sounding a little uncertain. Shoyo raised his eyebrow.

“So you could? You could do it?”

“Perhaps, Shoyo,” she said and he could vividly picture the way she was pursing her lips, “The last time I did one on my own was back in school. I’d probably still need a tech with me.”

“That’s fine,” he hurried, “I’d really like it if it were you.”

There was a sigh on the other end and then a short laugh. “So how did the consultation with Dr. Suzaku go?” she asked, Shoyo not initially realizing she meant Banjō because of his instance to go by his first name.

Shoyo started by criticizing the man’s indoor plant skills.

***-***-***

“I want to come with you,” Tobio had insisted, which Shoyo had suspected he would.

Thinking about it after Dr. Ito’s phone call Shoyo had expected to feel annoyed if Tobio insisted yet in the moment, sitting across of him at the table while the two ate breakfast, he instead felt comforted by it.

“Thank you,” he said, realizing what a brat he had been a lot of the time. Here Tobio was, being as loving and kind as he possibly could. Sure, he was annoying at times and Shoyo despised when he treated him like a flower, but Tobio only tried his best. Tried loving him best he could.

Shoyo hadn’t realized he started crying until he felt the drops fall on his cheeks.

“What the-” he gasped, sniffling as he tried to wipe away the tears. Across from the table Tobio stared at him like he’d grown a second head.

“It’s the fucking moodswings,” Shoyo cried, getting to his feet. He felt clumsy as he climbed into Tobio’s lap anyway, his boyfriend instantly accepting him but not without utter confusion on his face.

“Moodswings?”

“Yeah, I know they co-could happen but this is so dumb,” Shoyo sobbed, “Like why am I crying?”

“I don’t know,” Tobio tried, starting to look a little panicked.

“Because I love you so much,” Shoyo decided, holding Tobio tight. He had wanted to joke, to exaggerate but the words never came.

Tobio smelled of egg roll and coffee but Shoyo still hid his face in his neck, pressing close.

The autumn rain was gently tapping on their windows outside, letting them know there was no point in leaving the house today. Tobio, who rarely skipped out on practice decided he for once could, mostly because of Shoyo’s convincing techniques which consisted hugs and kisses.

“Have you thought about it any more?” Tobio tried a moment later when Shoyo had blown his nose and felt pretty done with the sudden emotional wave. His doctor had suggested they might have to do with Shoyo’s abstinence of testosterone too, his body going a little haywire. It was why the first examination and ultrasound was so important, no matter what he eventually chose to do.

Shoyo didn’t reply to Tobio’s question. He didn’t blame him for asking once again nor tip toeing around the subject but he simply didn’t have a good answer to give yet.

When Tobio’s lips against his started to get a little desperate a couple minutes later, his movements needy, Shoyo didn’t mind. He could take care of Tobio too, holding him close and tell him over and over how much he loved him.

***-***-***

“This is ultrasound tech June, newly graduated from Tokyo MD University,” Dr. Ito introduced the young nurse in the hospital room. Shoyo’s eyes flew immediately to the stretcher and space-like machine on the table. He knew how ultrasounds looked, his mother had a print of both his and his sister’s in her bedroom back home.

It felt alien to stand here, about to do his own. Not to mention the uncomfort of having to drink what felt like a hundred litres of water before the examination. He had peed an hour ago, according to the instructions, but the nerves were getting to him and he knew he would have to go soon again.

“Nice to meet you,” Juno greeted them with a surprisingly low bow.

“Likewise,” Shoyo greeted, still a bit distracted by the machine not to mention the horrific leg braces in the corner. They looked like a torture device.

“So this is the father,” Dr. Ito smiled as she gestured towards Shoyo. “And so is this, I presume,” she continued and then greeted Tobio which Shoyo realized was for the first time.

“Nice to meet you,” Tobio insisted, definitely stiff and weirded out. He looked both determined to do this and ready to run out any second. Shoyo smiled and reached for his hand.

“Juno here was one of my internship students this spring. I don’t believe she ever met you, Hinata but she’s very well versed in what she does. She also wrote about same-sex couple’s health-care institution experience in her thesis, so I thought she’d fit for this,” the doctor explained as she closed the door behind them.

There weren't any windows inside the surprisingly spacious room and the lamps felt very bright above them, but Shoyo appreciated the privacy.

“And I feel very honored to be here, and to aid Dr. Ito in the ultrasound,” Juno replied.

“No, no,” Dr. Ito insisted, “I’m here to get your help. You’ve done this here since your employment in April so I’m confident your skills are very good.”

“Ah, no, Dr. Ito is someone I’m very fortunate to work with,” Juno countered.

Shoyo and Tobio watched the two women fuss over each other like it was a tennis game. Then Dr. Ito cleared her throat and gestured for Shoyo to take his place on the bed.

He lied down, like he assumed he should, but Juno started going over some basic questions at first. Shoyo felt fairly comfortable on the plastic bed thing and stayed down while she spoke, even as she professionally quickly took his blood sample. Some questions were a bit embarrassing but Shoyo surprised himself by not blushing nor avoiding to answer.

When asked about his urges he simply replied that he got very intense urges sometimes, and the next felt no sexual attraction at all. Tobio was almost beet red in the chair he was sitting on. Dr. Ito glanced over her shoulder at him and then gave Shoyo an amused look.

“Alright papa, time to take a look inside,” Juno explained as she got her gloves on. Dr. Ito did the same and got the clear gel ready while Shoyo pulled his shirt up to reveal his stomach. He wouldn’t say he was a very vain person but he’d definitely noticed his abs starting to fill out a little more, the lines less visible. He simply looked a little bloated.

“At eight weeks the fetus is the size of a raspberry,” Juno smiled, “but it shouldn’t be too hard to find. If we don’t, we’ll do a vaginal ultrasound.”

Shoyo paled.

Dr. Ito patted his arm beside him. “I just assumed you’d want the external one so I completely forgot to ask you,” she shrugged and Shoyo weakly nodded.

The gel wasn’t as cold as he had expected but it definitely felt weird, a bit ticklish. Dr. Ito and June were discussing what they remembered from school and Shoyo appreciated the chatter. It was much better than when the room fell into silence, just the short beeps of the machine every now and then.

“Alright, hold your breath,” Dr. Ito instructed, sitting down on the small chair in front of the screen, moving the scanning device or whatever it was over Shoyo’s stomach with her right hand. It almost looked like one of those scanners the cashier at supermarkets used. What if there was a bar code inside him and it would beep? What if this Juno suddenly told him the total? Asked if he wanted a recite?

“And there it is,” she smiled instead and Shoyo exhaled, feeling his pulse pick up, his hands unknowingly shaking a little at his sides. He took a deep breath as instructed again, holding it so his organs apparently would stay still.

Tobio was up from his chair in less than a second, staring over the doctor's shoulder at the screen. It was still turned away from Shoyo who gulped. Their reactions were certainly varied.

Juno looked pretty calm, Dr. Ito almost amazed and Tobio like he was going to faint.

“Breathe,” Shoyo whispered and Tobio caught his eye only to inhale loudly. Both women laughed, June moving the scanner once more. She was pressing quite hard, Shoyo starting to feel a little discomfort.

“Alright, hold your breath once more,” Juno instructed and gestured for Dr. Ito where to press on the screen.

Suddenly she turned the display around to show him, Shoyo blinking at the shape on the screen.

To his surprise it didn’t look much like anything. It was a white blob in the middle of a bigger black blob and then a bunch of white around it all.

“So there’s only one,” Juno supplied while turning the screen back to her and Shoyo realized he hadn’t even considered any other option than that.

“And then we’ll give it a listen,” Juno said, her voice ending in a whisper and suddenly the room fell quiet. Shoyo waited, not sure for what, but then it started.

A deep, thumping sound coming from the machine’s speakers. It sounded like a restless drummer hitting the bass drum in an even beat.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine.

Shoyo’s head fell back against the flat pillow, teeth biting the inside of his cheeks to keep the sudden wave of emotion down. _‘Fuck,’_ he thought.

“It’s a good heartbeat,” Dr. Ito declared, comparing it to something on her screen.

“Is it?” Shoyo heard Tobio gently ask, voice worried.

“Yes, it is,” Dr. Ito agreed.

As Shoyo sat in the hospital bathroom later, having already left a urine sample, he stared at the door. He felt like he could hear a low vibrating sound, like ominous music playing in tune with his breaths, the memory of a beat not too far away in his mind.

_‘Thump, thump, thump.’_

Shoyo was distracted by his aching legs, the toilet warm where he had been sitting for a long while. His fingers moved over to his stomach again, feeling it.

 _‘Thump, thump, thump,’_ it had said.

“It’s a good heartbeat, Dr. Ito had said.

 _‘Thump, thump, thump,’_ it said.

Tobio couldn’t help himself in the taxi and held Shoyo’s hand in his, watching him as Shoyo kept his eyes on the road, observing pedestrians take a chance with the stop lights, bikers rush from and to work while cars honked and carried their passengers to places. A group of dressed up girls waited by a stoplight just as their taxi did, Shoyo watching the one with purple hair take a drag on her cigarette while her friends laughed about something.

When they got back home Shoyo felt exhausted, taking the stairs one at a time, slowly making his way up. Tobio was behind him the entire time and when Shoyo couldn’t kick his shoes off Tobio moved from untying his own to untie his boyfriend’s. He looked up when he was done and Shoyo met his wonderful, familiar eyes.

“If we do this I don’t want to hide away,” Shoyo told him. “I can’t.”

“If you want to come out then we will,” Tobio replied, one of his hands still around Shoyo’s ankle.

Smiling a little he reached forwards and pushed Tobio’s hair back. He seriously needed a haircut, it was getting too long again. “But it might ruin our careers,” he whispered back.

“Then so be it,” Tobio said, “If you hadn’t already realized I’ll always choose you over volleyball. No matter when or where, I think I always would have.”

“Shut up,” Shoyo sniffled, already having cried enough for today. “What if we move instead? What if we really did it? Moved to a place where no one would recognize us, where no one would care? What if we took the opportunity?”

“The transfer you mean?” Tobio asked, eyebrows raising.

“Yeah,” Shoyo nodded, “I’m finished for the summer. Sure, there’s the Thailand tour in December but I still haven’t signed up for that and I can just… choose not to.”

“You’d have to put your life on hold for this. Your career,” Tobio warned, biting his lip.

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t be doing nothing. I’d be exploring the mountains in the pictures, eating good fish, growing a… thing, you know, inside.”

“An alien?” his boyfriend supplied, wearing a smirk.

“Pretty much,” Shoyo said then he let out another shocked sigh, smiling. “Fuck, I’m contemplatic it, aren’t I?” he added, looking out towards the dark room.

A child, he thought. Imagined one of the small bundles he had seen in the hospital, a laughter echoing in the hallway.

He knew he wanted a child with Tobio, there wasn’t any doubt about that. It seemed the opportunity it came with just wasn’t the one he expected. And it surely punched him in the face first, arriving perhaps a little sooner than he’d liked. 

“Are you sure?” Tobio insisted anyway, leaning his head against him. Shoyo’s fingers brushed through the strands again, pushing his hair back and combing out nonexistent tangles.

“Fuck it, why not,” Shoyo said with a breathy laugh. Tobio pinched his ankle.

“Ouch, okay,” Shoyo laughed, “Alright. I mean I’m not a hundred percent sure, I’m still nervous as hell. And like Dr. Ito _and_ Banjō said it will not be easy, especially considering my… me. Especially considering I might still act up.”

Tobio stayed silent.

“Like, I’m not going to lie, if I could grow it in a flower pot instead I’d much more prefer that.”

“Or me,” Tobio provided, “I’d do it for you too.”

“Or you,” Shoyo hummed. He sighed deeply once more.

“But then there’s that part of me that’s like _Shit, we did this._ And it’s in my body, it’s in me. It’s got a _good_ heartbeat. It doesn’t matter that it stems from me not being born like you. And yes, I’m scared. I'm terrified. Something could still go wrong.”

He let out another shaky breath. “But at the heart of it all... I want it. It’s mine. It’s ours.”

Shoyo wondered how it was, that the points for ‘ _No_ ’ were in the majority yet it felt like the losing team was winning? How was it that the one single argument for ‘ _Yes_ ’ was worth so much?

“It won’t go wrong,” Tobio said, getting to his feet. He placed his arms around Shoyo’s shoulders instead, staring intently at him.

“You don’t know that,” Shoyo pointed out, used to Tobio’s intense stares by now.

“I do know though,” Tobio said persistently, “That whatever's in your hands you will work out. You would do amazingly because you would be the best father in this world.”

Shoyo bit his lip, looking up at him. His words were awfully cheesy but a sweet kind of cheese.

“I fucking hope so,” he scoffed, “I’m one of the few fathers who’s actually carrying the child.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This _definitely_ wasn't an easy chapter to write regarding the choice Shoyo would have to make, mostly because I got such a mixed response. Perhaps already noticeable but I genuinely attempt to sometimes steer the story in the direction that the readers who comment point it towards. I actually wrote out both versions and spent a moment thinking about both. 
> 
> Yet since the first two comments on this chapter don’t agree with the plot I feel like I should to add; In the end the story is mine to write, and while I take note of and appreciate comments about future chapters, I won’t go back and change what I’ve already written (unless they’re factual mistakes or something). 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, be safe out there ♡
> 
> (As a hardcore atheist ~~and thus also Satan worshiper according to some lmao~~ I'd like to add that I'm obviously pro-choice.)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was on a roll from the last chapter apparently. It may or may not also be that I'm avoiding writing my thesis...

With acceptance came love, and with love came lust.

It was a wild kind of love, a sort of affection Shoyo felt like he couldn’t control as he looked at Tobio at times and just needed to be close. And then the next day he wanted to have his space.

As the leaves started to fall around the house they hid inside for another day, Tobio having to insist to his teammate that he wasn’t sick or anything, just choosing to not go to their optional practice session.

Instead Shoyo and Tobio collectively shoved away any fragile items and put away the dinner table, leaving them with a large, free space. Tobio bounced the volleyball on the floor, catching it without looking.

Shoyo’s grin was wide. “Come on then.”

After a full day of inside volleyball they succeed in not breaking anything, even when Shoyo smashed a ball down only for it to bounce a centimeter or so against the wall above the TV. The rest was spent cuddling close, fucking a few times and then taking a long shower together before Shoyo was eagerly climbing up for a fourth round.

A day well spent, Shoyo would argue.

The next he woke up alone, Tobio having gone to practice like he said he would. Shoyo stretched in bed for a while, brought himself off once while thinking of yesterday, and then went for a run.

Yamamoto met up with him in the park and they took the long route from Shoyo’s proposal. They were lucky to avoid rain and Shoyo instead found himself stopping now and then to snap a photo of the landscape, especially when they reached the lookout hill. There was a family already standing by the railing, the teenager more interested in his phone compared to the rest of the family looking out over the field. Their youngest child was strapped onto the father’s back, clearly asleep with a knitted hat covering its eyes. A daughter was pointing to the sign which depicted all the animals that could be found in the area, calling the beaver a rat.

Shoyo had been at this spot before of course, considering how many times he jogged, but it was always beautiful in autumn.

When they paused to drink at a water fountain later Yamamoto took out his phone, frowning before accepting the call.

Shoyo jogged a bit in the spot, stretching his legs against the picnic table. There was only forest around them, trees as tall as skyscrapers it felt like. In between the red tree trunks Shoyo could see another jogger pass by another trail, her focus on timing her steps. He was fairly certain he’d seen her before.

“-Alright, I love you. Bye,” Yamamoto finished and Shoyo looked at him curiously.

“My son got it!” he exclaimed and Shoyo lit up, giving the older man a high five.

“Now all you need to do is buy him a moped,” Shoyo said as they continued on their trail.

“Yes, well, we’ll see about that,” Yamamoto laughed. “If he expects to get the latest model Honda model he’ll surely be surprised. The neighbor has an old Chinese one in the garage, I might get him that one.”

“If it runs, it runs,” Shoyo agreed. He never bothered with a moped licence when he was younger. Perhaps that would be a good thing to busy himself with, if he and Tobio were really gonna do this. A driver’s licence would be ideal but Shoyo wasn’t sure he would have the time for that.

Then he frowned. Did they have mopeds in Norway?

***-***-***

They sat in front of their TV, Shoyo stretching his legs over Tobio’s while he lounged back against the armrest. They had been fighting over a bag of seaweed chips a minute ago, the bag now completely empty.

There was an intense finale in a women’s volleyball game on the TV but Shoyo’s mind kept going elsewhere.

“Hey,” he started, poking Tobio with his toe, “How long do you have until you need to reply to the offer?”

“Uh, like a month?” Tobio replied, eyes still on the screen. Shoyo sat up and looked for the papers, eyeing a stack on the kitchen table. He purposely crawled over Tobio to obstruct his view for a couple seconds, pretending to struggle over his legs. His boyfriend only muttered a little and stretched to see the action on the TV.

Moving some letters aside Shoyo then brought the folder with him back to the couch, taking the exact same route over Tobio on the way back. He fell to the couch with a chuckle.

He had looked at them before, of course, but bit his lip when he couldn’t find any specific date. At least he assumed they would write the date with numbers and not words. He knew the months in English too but there was none of that either apart from the info about future games.

“I think you’re supposed to give your coach a verbal answer. I assume a week or two is a reasonable amount of time to think about an offer,” Shoyo reasoned.

“But I don’t have an answer, do I?” Tobio pointed out, looking at Shoyo.

“I think you could say that you’re contemplating it but that you’d like some more information. And perhaps a translator.”

“I wish you could just come with,” Tobio grumbled.

“Dude, just text your coach and ask for a translator,” Shoyo sighed.

“ _Dude_ yourself.”

“ _Honey_ , just text your coach and ask for a translator,” Shoyo corrected himself, crawling over to slump against him.

“I want to watch this,” Tobio quickly warned and Shoyo only snickered at his instant defensiveness.

“I’m not doing anything,” he answered sweetly.

“No, but you’re thinking about it. I can tell,” his boyfriend warned, giving him a look. Shoyo threw his arm over his shoulder anyway, holding up the paper to continue reading. His skills in English were better than Tobio’s because of his time abroad and purely based on interest. Tobio didn’t have a lot on his list after all.

Even if there were some words he didn’t completely understand he could usually figure out the gist of a sentence with the surrounding words, unless it was a specific noun. To his surprise a few of the words in Norwegian sounded similar to English words though. After checking on his phone he realized the languages were related.

“It says that housing will be supplied,” Shoyo translated, “or they might cover a certain percentage if we- you wanna choose on your own. If it’s sold by this list of real estate agents.”

Shoyo tapped his finger on the paper before he dashed off to fetch his laptop. He almost dropped it onto the floor as he tried to open it while walking, catching it only last second. Tobio didn’t even look over, evidently used by Shoyo’s clumsiness.

“It would have to be close to the arena,” he pointed out as Shoyo started browsing for houses in Oslo.

“Oppsal Arena, right?” Shoyo asked, bringing it up on Google Maps.

“Oh, it’s really central,” he hummed, realizing the ocean crept through the city in small little streams everywhere. Well, they looked small on the laptop screen. Perhaps they were large rivers in real life.

Tobio glanced at the screen but soon went back to the TV, talking to himself about the players at times. When there was a specifically good goal he hurried to tell Shoyo to watch the slow motion playback they always did after a good goal or save.

When Tobio got Shoyo’s attention he looked up to watch the libero do an impressive dive before shooting up on her feet, her face in a wide smile, hair bouncing in a long braid.

“She’s so pretty,” Shoyo commented, watching as the camera followed her even when she turned around. She had a really nice ass too. “Look, even the camera loves her.”

For some reason Tobio had a tendency to get jealous at odd times. Heitor was the biggest case and sometimes Kenma but a lot of the time when Shoyo pointed out beautiful girls he got a sour look on his face.

“Don’t worry baby, you would look amazing in that braid too,” Shoyo promised as he held Tobio’s chin with his fingers for a second. His boyfriend pushed Shoyo’s hands away and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.

“Anyway, I don’t want an apartment,” Shoyo mused, managing to click his way onto one of the local real estate websites. He simply picked the first one on the list from the letter.

“Oh, this one is amazing. And this one almost looks Japanese,” he awed. As he continued browsing a hand sneaked it’s way over to his ankle, Tobio caressing his skin while he continued to watch the game.

With some help from the translation website he figured out how to exclude apartments and put in what he thought they would be able to pay. Tobio would receive a certain amount of the money he’d put in if he sold this apartment, but part of it would go to the league since they supplied it. They wouldn’t know what that amount would come to so Shoyo made a random assumption and put together their savings and earnings this far.

“Mhm, we could get a big house if we live outside of the city. I wonder how many times you would have to go in and practice,” he hummed.

“Do I need a drivers license?” Tobio asked, his thumb gently rubbing his skin.

“No, there’s a lot of bus routes apparently. You could get a moped license though, I think they’re easier.”

“Hmm,” Tobio absently hummed.

Shoyo clicked past several different houses in very varying styles, thoroughly entertained because of a pattern he soon found; Almost all of them seemed to have a sauna inside, like it was a cultural standard.

“I would like to bike,” Tobio pointed out. “If we’re getting a house outside of the city I can bike to the gym.”

Shoyo smiled and huddled closer to him on the couch.

***-***-***

After some deliberation Shoyo decided to come with Tobio for his following Monday practice. He was scheduled to have a word with his coach about the offer and possibly get in contact with the Norwegian advocate over the phone. Shoyo turned side to side in the mirror, wondering if the difference would be noticeable by others.

Shoyo would say he often got compliments on his muscles, even though they sometimes came with the added comment ‘for your height’. He wasn’t exactly a bodybuilder but his arms and especially legs were pretty toned, perhaps not as much now as when he was practicing for a big game. Nonetheless he had never been much of an abs guy, especially compared to Tobio, and he currently tried to discern whether he really had a bump or not. It was definitely there when he stood in profile naked, but just with a baggy shirt it wasn’t that obvious.

It was week 9 now, Shoyo secretly keeping track. He gently patted him small bump before turning to the rest of his wardrobe. Since there was a chance they would exercise outside Shoyo pulled on a hoodie. Glancing in the mirror he looked nowhere near 9 weeks knocked up. At least it was guaranteed no one would ask him if he’d put on some weight.

The stomach he could deal with, in the sense that there wasn’t really anything he could do about it. It still felt weird but Shoyo sometimes forgot about it completely. The thought of a child was starting to get to him though and he still got tingles when he imagined having a child with the man he loved.

In other words it didn’t explicitly bother him that he was carrying it anymore, because he was starting to get over the doubting thoughts about it having to do with his gender. One of the main reasons why was when he found out there was a whole world of people like him. Banjō had supplied him with some links and one reference to a book and while Shoyo was a bit lazy reading all the words he stared intently at the pictures.

Bearded men holding their babies, showing off their bellies, looking proud with their partner.

There weren't a lot of cases in Japan, that was for sure. Most of the articles were in English and other languages but Shoyo didn’t mind too much. He mostly looked at the pictures.

The thing that did start to bother him a lot though was his chest. He sighed at his reflection in the mirror, hating the feeling of his “sports binder”. It wasn’t an actual binder because he couldn't wear something so restrictive so he had to wear one of the items his mother had bought for him a couple years ago. A sports bra. Shoyo hated the name because it included the name bra and he refused to say or call it that. It wasn’t as tight as his binder though but he couldn’t wear his sports tape either because of the damn aching. So sports binder he called it.

He supposed it was still better than nothing. Tobio reminded him over and over again he was still incredibly flat, even if Shoyo perhaps didn’t realize it himself.

“Dr. Ito told me my chest might grow during this, you know,” Shoyo had pouted, sitting on the bed as Tobio appeared from the shower. He got into his everyday clothes and Shoyo briefly admired his butt when he changed.

“Okay,” Tobio simply supplied, looking a little lost for words. Or perhaps still in thought about his meeting later.

“I… I think I wanna get the surgery after all this,” Shoyo decided aloud, playing with the straps of his hoodie.

“Chest surgery?” Tobio asked, grabbing his summer jacket when they’d entered their hallway.

“Yeah. I can’t really handle… it,” he replied while simultaneously taking Tobio’s jacket from him and replacing it with a thicker one, a denim jacket with a wool collar. His damn man could never learn to dress for the weather. Tobio simply accepted the new clothing and put it on without comment.

“Okay. We’ll do that then,” he promised like it wasn’t a big deal, grabbing his sports bag. Shoyo smiled and slapped his ass on the way out.

The wind was strong outside, Shoyo glad he decided to dig out his hat from the bottom of the drawer. It smelled a little funky for some reason but the fabric was comfortable over his ears.

Because they went together they decided to walk. Shoyo watched a bus pass them, the wheels splashing water onto the sidewalk. He straightened up anyway, knowing he would get warm by moving. He glanced at Tobio and not for the first time wished he could hold his hand as they walked.

***-***-***

“Nice one,” Ushijima said, his voice just as monotone and deep as usual. He had been practicing receiving and Shoyo was more than happy to help. There was a team of high school students practicing at the same time in the massive gym hall and a younger boy had been assigned to help the pro-player. He was currently tossing volleyballs to Shoyo who would spike them at Ushijima.

Shoyo was bouncing with how fun it was.

“Three more,” Ushijima said after they had been at it for a while, crouching down and slapping his legs to pump himself. He was still pretty socially awkward at times and Shoyo gave him an uncertain smile before getting ready once more. He didn’t feel anything close to exhausted yet but he was definitely breathing heavier. It was wonderful to be on the court again, the scents and motions all so familiar.

He nodded for the high school boy and started sprinting, the muscles in his legs preparing to jump, Shoyo eager for the thrill of seeing over the net once more.

“Good one,” Shoyo grinned when they were done, Ushijima having managed to catch a lot of his spikes. It was different from beach volleyball in many ways and while Shoyo loved the indoor court he realized he had gotten used to the sand, mostly in the way it was forgiving on his feet. Then again he wasn’t exactly barefoot indoors.

Ushijima gave Shoyo a short nod before he headed to the bleachers. He didn’t sit down, proof of his stamina in a way, and instead grabbed a drink he violently shook before drinking from.

“It’s a protein shake,” he explained when Shoyo watched him curiously from over his own water bottle.

“Oh, is it good?”

Ushijima looked at his bottle like he had to think about it. “No,” he eventually said but went for another drink anyway.

Shoyo couldn’t help looking over towards the doors which would lead to the meeting rooms. One of the doors opened just as he did and Shoyo held his breath only to notice it was a cleaner. The young man dragged a bucket and mop with him, looking a little frustrated.

“Do you want to switch?” Ushijima asked, stretching his arms above his head.

“I suppose it’s only fair I receive now,” Shoyo said and followed the player back to the court. Some of the high school students, three girls in particular, had sneaked closer to their court. They were whispering and giggling, looking towards Ushijima who didn’t seem interested at all. It didn’t take long before a whistle was blown harshly and the girls ran back to their own courts, the teacher’s scolding even audible from here.

Ushijima turned to the high school boy who was already prepared with a ball, eager to throw it. Shoyo could tell he was a big fan of Tobio’s team, perhaps similarly to the giggling girls.

Shoyo got in position, crouching down and holding out his arms, his hands open to catch any flying balls.

And suddenly he froze in place, his blood running cold with terror. Without thinking his arms instinctively came in and positioned directly in front of him. Ushijima hadn’t noticed and started running towards the net. Shoyo could hear his thumping footsteps as he neared the net, his own heartbeat drumming louder and louder in his ears.

Shoyo barely caught the ball. It slammed against his palm and flew to the left, Ushijima’s strength always a reminder he wasn’t fooling around. The pro player jogged back and nodded for another toss, Shoyo looking back and forth between the two. He wanted to say something, he had to say something.

The second time the spike was aimed at the corner. Shoyo could see it very well and he probably would’ve caught it if he’d thrown himself on the floor. But he didn’t. Instead he pretended to be slow, his hands starting to shake at his sides. Ushijima didn’t seem to think any of it and continued with his third, the ball slamming against his palm echoing like a gunshot.

And when it came flying straight towards him Shoyo panicked.

His body was screaming at him to protect his torso and his head at the same time, while his volleyball reflexes told him to try to catch it, even if it hit him.

In a last one-second decision Shoyo sidestepped the ball and it flew right past him, slamming into the wall behind him. Shoyo could hear the small exhale escape his lips and he suddenly felt sick.

“S-sorry, I can’t- I mean, I don’t feel so good,” he attempted to lie and without looking at Ushijima he walked towards the bathrooms. It started as walking but with the adrenaline in his legs he was soon full on sprinting before he reached the door. A whistle went off far away in the gym hall yet he still jumped at the sound, holding his arms around himself again.

As soon as the door closed and locked Shoyo slid to the floor, his back against the cold tile and legs just long enough to touch the other wall. He placed his hands on his knees when he noticed they were shaking, leaning back and telling himself to calm down.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. We’re okay,” he whispered.

Leaning back against the wall he attempted to slow down his breathing, concentrating on relaxing. Stressing wouldn’t do him any good either.

After some time had passed, Shoyo not sure if it was a minute or more he opened his eyes, rubbing his forehead. The bathroom smelled like heavy cleaner, the floor at least clean. Suddenly Dr. Ito’s words came back to him about avoiding dangerous chemicals which might be found in cleaning products and Shoyo shot up from the floor. He cleaned his hands thoroughly before exiting. Peeking out from the door he didn’t find anyone standing outside with an accusatory glare or anything, the hall looked just like before.

He had left his bag in Tobio’s locker so he couldn’t busy himself with the book he had brought, which was pretty dumb planning. Instead he slowly made his way back towards Ushijima’s court only because Shoyo had left his phone and jacket on the bench.

Ushijima was busy spiking towards two new high schoolers who looked terrified running around the court. The pro-player noticed Shoyo and simply gave him a nod before going back to it.

Feeling a little better Shoyo picked up his jacket and phone and trailed back towards the entrance. He had planned to go to the gym but with his legs feeling like jello he wasn’t up for it. Not to mention he was still a little shaken about the whole ordeal.

Shoyo wasn’t the bravest when it came to horror movies but he had grown into them a little as he got older, mostly because he and Tobio watched them together and were equally scared. The difference was in how Tobio usually froze up at the scary scenes and Shoyo instead shrieked loudly, then always laughed as the exhilaration ran off.

Nonetheless, Shoyo had been through a lot of scary stuff in the real world too. Where he was now in his life there wasn’t a lot that scared him for real; that sent a shiver of terror down his back.

The feeling of horror he felt today when he realized he was potentially about to get a spiked ball thrown against his stomach still made him shiver. Instinctively he put both hands inside the pockets of his hoodie to once again create a shield around himself.

Shoyo always felt happy and safe on the court, it was such a jarring feeling to suddenly feel so fearful. Sure, there was the feeling of doom during a match he wasn’t sure they would win or the annoyance when a certain player kept blocking all his moves. But it wasn’t terror, not like this. Shoyo hadn’t even really cared about his body; he was freckled with scars and bruises from his daily clumsiness and past games. He was usually the first one to throw himself into the sand to catch a ball, even sometimes when he knew he would miss. It was instinct to him.

Until about a week ago when he bumped into the counter in the kitchen for the hundredth time and got another bruise on his hip. But it _had_ scared him then, similar to now, where he held his stomach afterwards, staring at the counter.

Now, just a moment ago at the court he felt frightened not only because of the sudden danger he put himself in but also because of his choice to _stay_ on the court. It took him three tries, three hits from one of Japan’s best spikers before he managed to leave.

The reason he stayed was several; the fear of getting unwanted attention, as if Ushijima would understand immediately why Shoyo was protecting his stomach. The other type of dread came from the part of him that loved nothing but volleyball, a pretty fucking big part of him. He didn’t want to face the fact that perhaps he couldn’t play, not like this, for several months.

Shoyo listened to the sound of sneakers squeaking and volleyballs slamming against the floor and then bouncing away.

He really loved playing, the sport one of his biggest loves in life. But as he held his arms around himself he knew he wasn’t sad about, for the time being, losing it. He could still play, he knew that. Perhaps just not so intensely.

Shoyo surprised himself by realizing it didn’t matter too much, that he wouldn’t get to competitively play, at least for a while. He felt a sudden need, almost an itch to look down at his slightly, slightly protruding stomach but he kept himself from doing it in public. Instead he flattened his two hands inside the hoodie pockets, absently stroking his thumbs against the fabric right over his stomach. It felt comforting and perhaps not only to him but to whoever was inside.

Tobio didn’t arrive until approximately an hour later. Shoyo didn’t mind, he had come along on his own accord after all. He had gone to the bowling alley located in the same building and bought himself some snacks. Apart from the vitamins Dr. Ito had prescribed him he was allowed to eat similarly to before. Because of Tobio’s good diet and that he obviously cooked the most in the house, as in almost _exclusively_ , Shoyo was, in Dr. Ito’s words; in good hands.

The smoothie he bought tasted amazing; sugary and sweet and probably not containing a lot of real fruit. But it calmed him down, like a band-aid after that semi-traumatic incident.

A group of the high school students had also crept closer to him during their break before one of them dared to ask for an autograph. Having apparently trained with the professional indoor team before the students found Shoyo much more interesting since they hadn’t seen him around before. Four of the girls said they were aiming for beach volleyball too and Shoyo was eager to give them some tips before their teachers called them over once more.

Shoyo was leaning back on a bench by the entrance now, slurping his smoothie when Tobio finally appeared with his coach. The old man was wearing his regular suit, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke to his player. They were too far away for Shoyo to hear them but he felt slightly humored by Tobio’s stiff body beside his energetic coach.

The coach headed towards Ushijima after they shook hands and bid farewell, Shoyo watching Tobio’s eyes sweep the hall before they fell on him. His lips smiled around the straw.

“Hi,” he said when Tobio got up to him, nodding towards the lockers. He was still in his jeans and Shoyo suspected he would propose to go home for the day since the meeting had taken much longer than expected. He had brought the gym clothes to change into if he wanted to play or exercise but it was getting late. Ushijima was doing laps around the room now, perhaps about to finish for the day too. Shoyo had also spotted one of the other players through the glass doors of the gym. Hirugami was nice but Shoyo found him a little intimidating, particularly his massive arms. He had been pushing weights which Shoyo surely couldn’t manage on his own and he had left the room with his sugary drink.

“So, how did it go?” he asked Tobio while he followed him to the changing rooms. As expected his boyfriend only grabbed his bag and then turned to head out. He paused before the door and bent down to give Shoyo a greeting kiss now that they were hidden from the rest of the arena. Shoyo eagerly replied, stepping a little closer to simply feel his body.

“I love you,” Tobio said with a straight face when he straightened up.

“I knew that already,” Shoyo grinned, warmth spreading in his chest. “What about the meeting?”

“It uh,” Tobio started, appearing to be looking for the right words. Shoyo exited the locker room and held the door open for him. He was already wearing his jacket but dug out his hat to put on too as they made their way outside. The sky was dark grey but there was no proof of previous rain on the ground so perhaps it would begin any minute.

“It went good, I think,” he said. “It was a bit awkward because the translator’s internet connection was awful so she had to repeat herself several times. And the Norweigan coach was smiling all the time. It was a little scary. He had really big teeth-”

“Alright,” Shoyo laughed, “What about the answers though?”

Tobio looked at him, clearly smug that he had made Shoyo laugh. Then he shrugged casually, “They still want me.”

Alright, so he was being cocky now.

Shoyo glanced over his shoulder, checking to see if anyone was walking right behind them. “Yeah, well, so do I,” he added with a cheesy smile.

Tobio let Shoyo tug him closer when a biker came speeding down the road, only Shoyo having caught sight of him. And what if they kept walking close to one another afterwards.

“Anyway, firstly I need to tell them a definitive yes in order to proceed. You know, sign the contract,” Tobio explained. “Then they’ll move along and sign me into the club. I might have to do two trips but if we move fast we could potentially sell my apartment quickly and then move. Perhaps we’d have to stay at a hotel in Oslo for a while but at least I wouldn’t have to be away from you for a longer period of time.”

Shoyo really, really wanted to hold his hand. Instead he settled for smiling up at him again, trying to convey on his face the emotions he felt.

Tobio, to his surprise, blushed a little before he continued.

“But uh, I asked about the property and they said a home gym or one close would suffice. They practice two to three times a week and the rest is workout, so a little more lax than here. And they speak very good English… so I’ll have to practice that.”

“I’ll help you,” Shoyo promised eagerly. “We could watch Harry Potter without subtitles,” he proposed and Tobio groaned.

“But we watched those movies last week.”

They took the quickest route to their home and they continued chatting about possible film series to practice with. The wind outside wasn’t as powerful as that morning but the sun stayed blocked by clouds. On the road in front of them leaves had started to build up, crushing whenever they stepped on one.

In the end Shoyo didn’t tell Tobio about the incident. It didn’t feel like the time to suddenly worry him with even more things while Tobio was busy thinking about the possible switch to another team. It wasn’t like it would change anything either. Plus, Shoyo felt awfully embarrassed by it, and not because of his fear or reaction but mostly because he put himself in that position in the first place. He was angry at himself and only tried to comfort himself by the fact that at least he didn’t pretend through an entire game and instead realized he was in danger.

Well, not him directly but his little… volleyball.

Shoyo still felt weird calling it a baby, even in his head. Fetus? Too clinical. Mini Kageyama? No, that was weird. _Volleyball_ felt ridiculous and thus he supposed it fit.

***-***-***

“Do you know I call this thing a volleyball?” Shoyo admitted the next morning, still amused by it.

“What?” Tobio grunted, only barely awake. They had stayed in later than usual because the sun hadn’t appeared to wake them. On the other hand Shoyo felt constantly fatigued so to him it was a blessing to wake up late. And he was only awake because of his morning sickness that had brought him running to the toilet a couple minutes earlier. After a shower he got back in bed, now scrolling on his phone when Tobio stirred.

“Little Volleyball. I don’t know what else to call it.”

Blue eyes flickered open and one eyebrow raised up in confusion. Shoyo pointed to his stomach.

“We’re not naming him Volleyball,” Tobio mumbled before he turned around and seemingly went back to sleep. Shoyo snickered but noted Tobio had said ‘ _him_ ’, perhaps he was secretly hoping for a boy. Shoyo hadn’t thought about it a lot and the speculating made him a little nauseous.

He went back to the videos on his phone showing Heitor’s last game. One of the Brazilians friends uploaded regular videos of their practice games at the beach. He wore the camera on his head, presumably a Go-Pro, and the view was always amazing. It felt real at times and made Shoyo’s feet tingle when the camera guy jumped to spike a ball. Heitor was looking as good as ever too, laughing with his other friends and players.

“Se você pisar na bola de novo, está fora do time,” Heitor said to his team player in the video, a lanky, tan teen with atrocious sunglasses. It was said with a laugh though and Shoyo recognized the expression _‘pisar na bola’_ Pedro had taught him. It was used to describe someone messing up but literally translated to _‘stepping on the ball’_ , as Shoyo recalled.

Tobio must have heard the Portuguese and turned around in their bed with a sour look on his face.

“Sorry,” Shoyo whispered and lowered the volume but continued watching.

His boyfriend stared at the screen for another second before sighing dramatically and falling back down.

So it wasn’t the noise in particular that bothered him, it was the language. Or more specifically, the _person_. Tobio’s odd jealousy over Heitor was still incredibly amusing to Shoyo. He had no idea where it stemmed from since Shoyo had many male friends he was just as close to. Perhaps it was because of Heitor’s incredibly good looks and nice body. Perhaps Tobio thought Shoyo had a thing for burly Brazilian men. Shoyo snickered at the thought.

He eventually put down his phone though and crawled back underneath the sheets. He clad himself against Tobio’s naked back, pushing his nose against his skin and breathing him in. Then he couldn’t help it.

“You know I won’t leave you for Heitor, right?”

Tobio didn’t say anything and Shoyo bit his lip, trying not to smile.

“Like, yeah sure, he’s got nice muscles and a nice tan from being in the sun. His hair is really cool too, have you noticed? Like it’s not straight black but rather this dark brown, curly-”

More than that Shoyo didn’t get out because Tobio had rolled around and was staring at him with cold eyes. His hands then fell on Shoyo’s sides before he started to tickle him.

“Okay-okay, stop,” Shoyo laughed, trying to roll away. He wiggled and tried to tug his boyfriend’s hands off, figuring it was a fair punishment for being cheeky. But then he started feeling a familiar, creeping sensation.

“Wait, stop,” he breathed between laughter, “really, stop. I’m gonna pee myself,” he exclaimed and finally Tobio stopped, looking alarmed.

Shoyo let his last laughter out, still smiling so Tobio would know he wasn't really mad.

“God damn bladder,” Shoyo said as he got up and dashed to the bathroom. He caught sight of himself in the mirror, embarrassed by the way he looked like a love-struck teen. Though he supposed it was fair because he kind of was. Not a teen anymore though, he reminded himself with an inwardly sigh.

When he exited the bathroom he almost slammed Tobio right in the face with the door, surprised to see him outside.

“Are you okay?” Tobio quickly asked instead, his eyes still open in worry.

Shoyo felt another wave of that warm feeling bloom in his chest and he rolled his eyes while still wearing a smile.

“I’m fine, I promise. I just have to pee all the time, that’s all,” he assured him and patted his cheek. When Tobio finally nodded he dragged him back to the bed. Not to have sex but rather to just laze around a bit more. It was a weekend and neither had anything on their schedule. Shoyo was booked to have another checkup that Monday but that was two days away, so nothing he had to think about yet he told himself.

When he got comfortable under the still warm sheets Tobio sat down beside him, not moving to get close again.

Shoyo pouted a little. “Can’t you lie down? I wanna cuddle.”

Tobio crawled underneath the bedding once more but he moved slowly, almost cautiously. Shoyo sighed.

“You know I hate it when you treat me like I’m too fragile. Yes, you shouldn’t punch me or anything but I’m not going to break by some play-fighting.”

Tobio didn’t reply and Shoyo frowned, annoyance threatening to begin burning underneath his skin.

“I need to feel you closer, more than before so don’t you try and distance yourself, alright?” he demanded harshly, needing to be clear.

“I’m sorry,” Tobio apologized and it sounded genuine. “It’s still all so new to me. I honestly forget sometimes that you’re pregnant until I remember or I notice your stomach.”

“So you do think it’s noticeable,” Shoyo noted, focusing on those words rather than the rest of the sentence.

“Only when you’re naked,” Tobio promised, giving Shoyo the tired look he gave him when Shoyo was fussing over what clothes he could use to cover himself and they all apparently looked good to Tobio.

“Lucky I’m not a sumo wrestler then,” Shoyo mumbled.

Tobio sat up for a second and Shoyo felt a hit of worry he was leaving before he realized Tobio was simply moving his pillow. And moving it closer to Shoyo too. He bunched it up until he was pleased and lied down beside him again. He held an arm out and Shoyo took the invitation for an embrace with a sheepish smile.

Shoyo had started to feel some mild back pain a couple days ago and it usually went away when he exercised. After yesterday's game he only noticed a slight ache whenever he laid on his right side, so he got comfortable on his back instead.

His breathing became slower as he realized he was starting to fall asleep again. Dr. Ito had told him he would feel tired more often and should embrace sleeping as much as possible. Shoyo didn’t mind that. As long as he _could_ sleep he’d happily do it as much as he was allowed to.

“Did you say something about naming our child Volleyball earlier?” Tobio suddenly asked and Shoyo burst out laughing. He had to take a moment to calm down before he could reply, still chuckling at the question and Tobio’s frowning face.

“That’s so awful,” Shoyo laughed. “I’d rather name it… Oikawa than Volleyball.”

“I wouldn’t,” Tobio frowned even further and Shoyo snorted.

“Either way no, I wasn’t talking about naming it, more about what I call it now. A nickname. Which is currently Little Volleyball,” he shrugged, the movement a little difficult while in bed and enclosed in Tobio’s arms.

“Why not just baby?” Tobio asked, looking a little clueless. He seemed to do that a lot lately.

Shoyo pouted in thought. “I don’t know, it’s a little… scary, I suppose.”

He looked up at the ceiling, at the lamp and the smoke alarm. “Baby,” he said aloud, trying the word. “My baby, our baby.”

In his chest his heart sped up and Shoyo wondered if Tobio could hear it.

“Do you want a boy or a girl? If we’re having it?” Tobio asked, leaning forwards to press his mouth against Shoyo’s shoulder.

Shoyo turned his head towards him, his turn to frown. “What?” he asked, uncertain he heard him correctly. Had Tobio really said _‘If_ we’re having it’?

Tobio repeated his question verbatim against Shoyo’s skin, looking at him expectantly, almost like he was being shy.

Feeling a little lost for words Shoyo stared at him for a moment.

 _“If_ we’re hav- Do you not want to keep it?” Shoyo finally asked, staring at his boyfriend.

Tobio instantly sat up, leaning on his elbow. “Of course I do!” he exclaimed, almost yelling. “I meant because you might- weren’t sure last time. So I don’t want to assume anything.”

Shoyo leaned back a little, surprised by the loud volume. Tobio looked like he caught himself and slowly lied back down, pressing his lips together as if he wanted to say something else but stopped himself.

“I, uh, yes? I mean we talked about it,” Shoyo started, emphasising his words as if they were obvious statements. “I even did the second meeting with Dr. Ito and got the supplements and stuff. I even got the flu shot like she instructed, and that wasn’t fun.”

Tobio stared at him, like that still didn’t answer the question he had asked.

Shoyo gently moved one of his hands to his cheek when he realized his boyfriend had still been walking around, worrying about this.

“Tobio, I thought it was obvious I wanted to. I mean sure, I-I was a wreck in the beginning and I’m still… worried about everything. It came upon me out of nowhere and I’m certainly not fucking sure I’m doing this correctly. But I’m… I’m not giving up Little Volleyball now. It’s _our_ child.”

Then Shoyo laughed, a kind of breathy laugh “I mean, I’m having awful morning sickness all the time and I have to pee like a racehorse constantly, not to mention the thing I hate the most about my body is _growing_ in size and my nipples are sensitive all the time. If I wanted to get rid of it I would’ve…” Shoyo trailed off his rambling when he realized his boyfriend was pressing his lips together so hard they were turning white.

Then Tobio blinked and his tears fell.

It didn’t take Shoyo more than a second before he held Tobio’s face in his hands. “Oh baby,” Shoyo whispered, heart bursting at the sight of his boyfriend crying. It didn’t take long before he was full on sobbing and Shoyo had to cradle him to his chest, petting his hair and kissing his forehead and ear, all he could reach.

“Shit. I’m sorry I worried you,” he apologized, kicking the sheets aside to embrace him with his legs as well, uncaring of the wetness he started to feel through his shirt.

“It’s okay,” Tobio sobbed, his words shaky. “You had to- had to be sure and I didn’t want to pressure you.” A wet sniffle. “I would’ve still loved you, just-just as much if you didn’t keep him.” Another sniffle.

“But you didn’t want to get your hopes us,” Shoyo finished for him and Tobio nodded against his chest.

Sighing deeply Shoyo continued to hold him, rub his back and assure him it was okay, and that he was sorry.

“I don’t want you to feel guilty.” Tobio said a moment later when he finally leaned back. His face was a mess and so was Shoyo’s shirt. Even though he disliked being without a top during the current changes his body was going through, even alone or at home, he tugged it off and after crumpling it into a ball dried off Tobio’s face. His boyfriend let him, looking like a kicked, overgrown puppy. A very tall and muscular puppy.

His eyes were red and he was still sniffling but Shoyo tossed the shirt over his shoulder, Tobio meeting Shoyo’s eyes again. “You didn’t need that from me,” he added.

Shoyo didn’t know what to reply so he stayed silent.

“Dr.Ito talked to me at the hospital you know,” Tobio continued. “When you were in the bathroom.”

Shoyo supposed there was time for that when he had his initial realization on the hospital toilet, after they’d heard the child’s heartbeat.

_‘Thump, thump, thump.’_

“She told me not to pressure you into a decision. That it might be difficult to not be passionate, at least outwardly, and influence your opinion. Possibly into a choice you would later regret.”

He sniffled again, looking up into Shoyo’s eyes again. “And I remember thinking about the time you found out and that we fought. When you left I was so upset.” Then he glanced over Shoyo’s shoulder, looking a little ashamed. “I even broke the trash can.”

Shoyo’s eyes widened. He vaguely remembered Tobio coming home with a new automatic trash bin the following day, a similar model and everything. “That’s why you bought a new one? I thought you said it broke?”

“Yeah, well, it didn’t,” he admitted, pursing his lips.

“What did you do?” Shoyo asked, genuinely curious.

“I kicked it,” Tobio shrugged, like it was normal.

“Must have been one hell of a kick,” Shoyo hummed, “I remember thinking it was weird you bought the same model if the old one stopped working. You would usually change brands or buy a newer model by then.”

Tobio scratched his arm, still lying close to Shoyo. It was still cozy and comfortably warm. Shoyo had even completely forgotten Tobio was still pushed up against his chest.

“Almost as crazy as breaking a mirror,” he tried to joke but Tobio didn’t laugh.

“I still feel guilty about that night,” Tobio said instead. “I was being egotistical and frustrated and I should’ve been supportive instead of… getting panicked myself. I got so scared.”

Shoyo was about to refute his words but paused at the last utterance. “Scared?” he asked.

“You said you had booked a time to get an abortion,” Tobio clarified. “I panicked because I thought it was too soon. I was scared of getting rid of the one chance we had to- Nevermind, I realize now that I should have just accepted your decision and instead try and support you. Instead I was only thinking of myself and the future I wanted with you. I was being selfish.

“No you weren’t,” Shoyo gently argued and when Tobio opened his mouth as if to argue he quickly continued, “And I was being irrational. I was angry at myself and I projected it onto you by provoking and putting words in your mouth.”

He sighed, removing his arm from Tobio’s shoulder to rub his own wrists. “It’s the self-hate that kicks in. It’s-it’s my condition,” Shoyo finally got out, trying to sound nonchalant, “it’s the dysphoria. Diagnosed and stamped on my forehead, acting up at the best of times.”

Tobio gave him a small smile; not pitying or condescending but sympathetic.

“Plus, I never booked an appointment in the first place,” Shoyo added. “I was horrified at the discovery, yes, but I was also terrified of the part of me contemplating keeping the child. _A child._ ”

He cleared his throat. “It was a well rehearsed instinct where I just shut down. It was something scary and new and different and I just quickly wanted it to be over. I wanted to go back to normal, as if nothing had happened and to get it out of me. I felt horrified realizing _something_ that could one day be a person was growing inside me,” Shoyo paused to calm down a little, realizing he was rambling. “And I… it was cowardly, and it’s difficult to admit but I think I knew you would… That you would be happy. And I was terrified because a part of me realized that if you were happy about it then I would be too- fuck,” he exhaled when he realized he was starting to tear up.

Shoyo blinked to get rid of the tears, collecting himself.

What a duo of saps they were being today.

Tobio gave him time, having grabbed Shoyo’s hands sometime during his rambling to caress the back of his hand and tie their fingers together. They were each on their own pillow again, facing each other.

“But you’re not uncertain now, are you?” Tobio asked after a moment.

Shoyo looked at him, feeling a bit melancholy. He recalled his young and naive self, just a month ago or so, unaware of possibilities of such responsibility. It almost felt like he was mourning his younger self. The idea felt a little silly but he also realized he was proud of his current self too, that he was doing okay now. He was accepting his duty, the trust their child unknowingly put in him. In a weird way.

He might not be the ideal person to carry a child but he would do his fucking damn best.

“No,” he replied and he truly felt like he meant it.

Tobio’s eyes were large and his breathing a little heavy. Slowly but without hesitation he pushed himself down the bed, keeping Shoyo’s eye contact as he crawled over his legs. Placing both hands carefully over his still small but definitely noticeable bump Tobio leaned down to press his cheek against it.

Shoyo felt his face heat up, instinct kicking in to escape the awfully embarrassing situation Tobio was putting them in.

“Hello,” he then heard Tobio whisper and he stilled. “I’m your other father. It’s nice to meet you.”

Shoyo’s head fell back against the pillow, his eyes shutting as he took a shaky breath. The skin on his arms was pricking even though it was comfortably warm inside their bedroom. He had trouble keeping himself still and silent and his heart was aching an awful lot. Down beneath him Tobio was telling their child about a sport called volleyball which both it’s fathers loved very much. There was a court and a net, he narrated, and the best position was the setter position.

***-***-***

During his Monday checkup everything went surprisingly well. Shoyo was eating a good diet and he was slowly putting on weight. Dr. Ito also commented on his good mood but he didn’t tell her anything about his and Tobio’s talk, just that he was feeling happy.

Dr. Ito wasn’t a certified obstetrician but Shoyo had pleaded with her to keep with him for the regular check ups for now. This time, however, she insisted they get one assigned for Shoyo. He took the chance to tell her about their plans to move abroad. Of course they still hadn’t completely decided, signed any contracts or begun the process of selling their home but so what if Shoyo lied a little?

His doctor was surprised but happy for him nonetheless. She accepted that she would stay as his ‘baby doctor’ until he moved, supposing it would be okay since he wouldn’t give birth in her hospital anyway.

Shoyo felt a little nauseous at just the thought of _giving birth_. Like, it was so wild. Making a person and then just depositing them in the world. _Evolution was fucking crazy._

Then there was also the thought of doing it in an unfamiliar place. What if he had to be rushed into hospital and his assigned, English speaking obstetrician wasn’t available and he had to attempt Norwegian. Shoyo quickly looked up the translation for ‘c-section’ since he sure as hell wasn’t pushing something out of his hole down there. No way in hell. He’d take the scars any time, they could match the one’s he’d get from the chest surgery.

 _‘I will look like I survived several samurai fights,’_ Shoyo thought with a sigh.

He stared at the word ‘ _keisersnitt_ ’ for c-section, quickly memorizing it in his fear of getting caught in a situation like such. ‘ _Smertestillende_ ’, the word for anesthetic wasn’t easy to even read but Shoyo figured it was important to know too.

Tobio called him just when Shoyo had gotten off the bus stop close to their home, Shoyo quickly picking up.

“They want me to agree to it now,” Tobio said in one breath, Shoyo coming to a stop on the sidewalk.

“They called Coach during practice because they got a contract signed with another Norwegian player that’s coming home from America. Mathias Lof-something, fuck I need to memorize their names. He’s amazing though and so they upped the pressure on my proposal. And since I asked about housing last time they’re raising the percentage they’ll put out, as a bargain.”

Shoyo had slowly but surely started walking again, his pulse quick and adrenaline shooting high.

“Okay, okay,” he replied, having to clear his throat.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” They both asked at the same time, Shoyo smiling on his end of the line.

“I am,” Shoyo breathed. “It’s scary but shit, Tobio, let’s do it. I’ve done some research during all the time I’ve spent at home lately. Norway is a good place.”

“They have free health care. I mean, I get that for my job,” Tobio corrected himself and Shoyo rolled his eyes.

“Well that’s good, at least. Too bad you’re not shooting out a baby by the end of your season-”

“Don’t say _shooting_ out,” Tobio grumbled but Shoyo though it was a little funny.

“Anyway, you know Norway is bigger than Japan in size, right? Well their total population is half of Tokyo,” Shoyo added.

“... Uh yeah, that’s… small,” Tobio said, sounding distracted. “Shoyo. One thing. I sort of had to tell them. About us. You remember that coach knows I’m,” he paused and whispered the next word, “gay. But I had to tell them I have a partner too. Because they needed to know about the moving thing and all. And uh, I admitted it was a man.”

“That’s fine,” Shoyo promised him, being honest.

“You know what they said?” Tobio asked, sounding slightly relieved.

“We hope your man isn’t pregnant?” Shoyo guessed.

Tobio only sighed at the joke, clearly not impressed by this one either. “No, they said _‘Great! We’re happy to show the both of you the beauty of Norway’._ ”

Shoyo giggled. “Do you even know any Norwegian?”

“No, do you?”

“Smertestillende,” Shoyo grinned over the phone.

“What does that mean?”

“Pain killers,” Shoyo proudly declared. Then he frowned. Tobio snorted nonetheless.

“I think you just made that up but- wait, Coach is calling. I gotta go. Okay but so it’s a yes? We’re doing this?”

“Fuck yes,” Shoyo replied and it felt like he was singing away his soul at the same time. He was pretty sure he didn’t want to sign it away to whatever mountain Gods they had over there in Norway. But he wouldn’t mind signing it over to Tobio. He knew his boyfriend would definitely care for it well.

***-***-***

The following processes were quite tedious and not as exciting as simply saying ‘Fuck yes’. They had to get their planning ready and time everything accordingly. Shoyo was contemplating scheduling another meeting with Banjō but wasn’t sure the man could help with such specific things. There were bureaus skilled with the specific task of moving abroad but they would obviously ask for a lot of money. Not that it was normally an issue for Tobio and Shoyo but they would need to be a bit more aware of their spending because of the house-buying part of it. And Shoyo had determinedly decided they could do this on their own.

Tobio’s league, well the new one, was automatically helping a lot. The contracts would be signed in Oslo and a press conference was scheduled for November where they would announce their new player. Now it was mostly the business of getting over there.

Shoyo sat on the floor of their living room, looking around at all the belongings. For a messy couple they sure still didn’t have too many items. Shoyo had initially disliked this apartment because of it’s cold colors and harsh shapes but then come to love certain parts of it. The ceiling window was his favorite of course, the bedroom not too bad either.

 _‘A bath’_ Showo had written down on the list in his phone of things they absolutely needed in their new place. He had seen a lot of fireplaces on the ads he’d briefly looked at and it was a wish too, but not a need.

They were waiting for the Norwegian immigration agency to give them a Go Ahead before they actually got started on the rest. The people Tobio were in contact with had assured them there wouldn’t be any problem so Shoyo supposed it wouldn’t hurt to clean up the place.

Tobio had been clear on the need for privacy of their relationship too and the identity of his partner, which the consultant in Norway apparently took very seriously. Shoyo still hadn’t seen any articles pop up with either of their names. While Shoyo was still registered at his old Sendai address it was public knowledge that the two were roommates, which wasn’t too uncommon in their country anyway.

 _‘Roommates,’_ Shoyo snorted.

They would have to leave their large items behind in Japan, which mainly consisted of the couch, dresser and bed. The kitchen chairs had been bought with the help from Tobio’s mother but they would probably be included in the price since they were still in good condition.

Shoyo’s phone was in his hand, his mother’s contact info on the screen. He _should_ call her and let her know what they were planning, that they were in the process to move half-across the globe. But what if they got a No from the immigration team? He knew his mother would be upset nonetheless, for being out of the loop. His father would probably be happy for him, always a spontaneous man.

Shoyo assured himself he could wait until they got a reply, glad for a reason to postpone that phone call at least a little.

Well, a couple minutes later he got a text from Tobio simply saying; _‘The papers are done. We got 12 months with a chance of extension depending on the league. Can you ask your parents if they want the couch?’_

Shoyo celebrated for a couple seconds before he groaned and fell to the floor. The movement made his back ache and he realized he still hadn’t told his mom about _that other kinda really big thing_.

He sat up again, absently staring at his mismatched socks. His doctor and the internet had told him it was common for people to reveal that they’re expecting after the 13th week because of the decrease in risk of miscarriage.

Shoyo was at week 12.

Shoyo poked his stomach. _‘You better not do that to me or Tobio.’_

He drummed his fingers on the floor, getting an imaginary beat going before he had to face reality. He lied down on the couch and gave his mother a call.

And after all was said and done she wasn’t too angry with him. She was excited but mostly just worried. Shoyo told her about Norway’s mountains, the fjords, LGBT laws, volleyball stars and saunas. She sighed over the phone and told him she would be happy if he was. But she made it very clear that he had to come home and visit before going anywhere.

Shoyo had fallen asleep on their bedroom floor when Tobio came home. He woke up to a violent wake up call by Tobio’s worried voice echoing through the room as he grabbed Shoyo’s shoulders.

“W-what is it?!” Shoyo exclaimed as he quickly got up, his vision swimming from sitting up so quickly. He realized he had tugged on one of his blankets over his body, a pile of underwear as a makeshift pillow.

“You… you were on-on the floor, not moving,” Tobio breathed and Shoyo finally realized how pale he locked.

“I was sleeping,” Shoyo mumbled, rubbing his eye.

“Oh, fuck,” Tobio exhaled, clearly having worked himself up. Shoyo was still confused from his sleep but figured his boyfriend must’ve been worried he had fallen or something.

“Hey, get me up,” he said to try and distract him, holding out his arms. Tobio took his hands and pulled him up, enclosing him into a hug.

“Sleep,” Shoyo hummed against him, closing his eyes again. Then he felt the nausea hit like a slap to the face and this time he didn’t make it to the bathroom in time.

***-***-***

Week 13 Dr. Ito explained he was a third of the way there and Shoyo didn’t feel completely ready to accept that fact. She told him he would be growing a lot more now and certain symptoms might get the best of him. He had to be aware depression was possible, along with other odd ones such as gums aching and a lot of gas.

Then there was the hormones. Whenever she said estrogen Shoyo nearly shivered and went with the word he had used way back as a child. And after the third time he’d called it yuck-hormones she caught herself doing it once too.

Shoyo had scheduled a trip back to Sendai to visit his parents during that weekend. Tobio was going at the same time but would visit his mom. There was probably a joint dinner planned between the two mothers too.

They had most of their planning complete by now, at least for the dates. It would be a quick move even considering it was abroad and all. It had been a hassle and both of them had tried to get the dates in order but no matter the end result was set; Shoyo would have to fly over first and accept the key to their temporary living place. It was an apartment in the northeast part of town. It looked pretty on the images Shoyo found but looked way too modern for his preferences.

It didn’t have a bath either.

 _‘Temporary,’_ he reminded himself.

He had never expected himself to be so picky when it came to architecture or houses but he supposed now that he had the money and time he had the availability to be selective. Tobio couldn’t care less about the look of their home and would probably accept a concrete bunker as long as it had a good bed and shower.

Nonetheless Tobio would have to stay back a couple of days until he got the apartment sorted. His coach took the chance to keep him another day for an official farewell party too. Shoyo had told Tobio to at least try to have fun, even if he would worry about his partner half-across the planet. He reminded him too that even if he had been home he probably wouldn't attend it anyway.

“Why not?” Tobio had asked.

“I can’t drink alcohol,” Shoyo replied.

“But several of the players don’t drink alcohol.”

“Yeah well… I wouldn’t want to meet Nozawa anyway.”

Shoyo was putting on a brave front but of course he was worried about flying over alone. He had practiced some English again and most of it came back to him naturally, but certain words were a bit tricky. Shoyo was going by Pedro’s technique of reading translated manga, making his way through a slice of life one. It was honestly awfully boring but Shoyo fought through. Reading a modern one was better because of the vocabulary. While Shoyo would’ve enjoyed to re-read the one about ninjas he didn’t exactly need to know the english terms for chakra and kunai.

They were seated beside each other in the train cart, the odd hour making it mostly empty. Shoyo lowered his book to glance at his boyfriend.

Tobio was looking through his calendar and reminders on his phone, editing one to change the time. Shoyo glanced at his screen, watching him change the time the pick up truck would come to collect their furniture to be delivered to Shoyo’s parents. The couch would be a gift to them and the dresser Tobio wanted to keep until they returned to Japan.

Because that was the plan for now. Shoyo hadn’t thought about it much; not returning home. He supposed that even if they fit in pleasantly in Norway and learned the language and got the citizenship that they’d both still long for Japan. It was his home and he couldn’t picture any other way. Perhaps he’d want to travel a bit more. That could be fun.

But Shoyo also remembered the home-sickness he had felt in Rio, longing for his family especially during alone evenings.

_‘Family.’_

He glanced down at his hand playing with the wool of Tobio’s shirt.

_‘Your family is with you this time though.’_

Shoyo smiled to himself, turning to look out the train window.

***-***-***

Shoyo had basically been attacked the moment he stepped inside his childhood home. His father had met them at the train station and given Tobio a ride to his mom’s house first before bringing Shoyo home. Now he had been thoroughly hugged and hugged and hugged to the extent that after the third time he had to sort of push his mother off.

He was wearing some of his baggiest clothes and was beginning to feel awfully warm inside their heated house. Natsu was walking around in a t-shirt and Shoyo desperately wished he could too. But not yet, he told himself. He was terrified of telling them, especially his mother. It wouldn’t be right. Telling them and then leaving, he argued.

Natsu had adopted two sister kittens which, in Shoyo’s opinion, were rather the size of regular cats by now. They had stumpy legs and didn’t run especially fast but his sister insisted the breed always looked like that. Everytime Shoyo laughed she got very defensive.

No one had seemed to notice anything different about him though and the biggest discussion topics were Natsu’s university courses, mom’s new clay hobby, dad’s old company friend and Shoyo’s migration to Norway. Not to mention his volleyball plans.

For the time he insisted there were a lot of players in beach volleyball in Norway, which was true, but when they asked if he was signed up for any leagues or games he tried to play it off. He wasn’t very successful and eventually had to twist the truth a bit. If he and Tobio stayed their full year Shoyo had planned to perhaps play a bit over there too, so it wasn’t a complete lie.

After dinner his father insisted to show him the website he and his colleague were working on, Shoyo giving some pointers but being incredibly proud of his father. To start a business at his age was a bit risky but they seemed to be doing very well.

Then his mother had wanted to show her clay sculptures. Shoyo wasn’t very impressed by the level of nakedness the figures showed. She insisted it was sophisticated when Shoyo snickered and pointed at a specifically large clay penis on a sad-looking clay man. Eventually she tried to shoo him out of her hobby room. It was, however, Shoyo’s old bedroom so it ended in a stalemate.

Shoyo didn’t sleep very well in his old bed for once. He had weird dreams of endless forests, the feeling of rough strands of fur in his hands and a large wolf-like creature hiding behind the trees, watching him as he walked barefoot on the wet moss.

When he woke up for the fourth or so time it was sunny outside, Shoyo quietly cursing as he felt the morning sickness greet him like it had so many mornings the last month. ‘It was a good sign,’ Dr. Ito had said. ‘It means the baby is growing.’

Dragging a hand under the sheets Shoyo felt the bump, moving his hands in circles over his skin. According to her it would be the size of a passionfruit about now.

Shoyo pursed his lips, trying to focus on other things before he had to make a quick trip to the bathroom. He didn’t get up any food this time and while he hated to waste water he kept the shower running to hide the noises of him dry-heaving.

When he finally felt better he took a quick shower, already tired again. With sluggish movements he made his way back to his room, staring at the sculptures with massive tits on his bookshelf.

His phone pinged as he was struggling with his sweatpants, tugging them up to read the text Kenma had sent.

_‘Norway? What is there? Sounds like nor-thing if you ask me. That was lame. Do you have time-’_

It continued further than the locked screen could display and Shoyo picked up his phone to unlock it. He laughed at the message and moved to type a reply.

Only for the door to open.

Not even _one_ knock, just a tug on the handle and then it was open. And all Shoyo had on was his sports binder and untied sweatpants.

“Natsu!” Shoyo yelled, grabbing the towel to hide his body. Natsu stared at him, toothbrush in her mouth. Her long orange hair was braided to the side, something she usually wore to bed for some reason.

“What?” she asked, “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“When we were kids maybe,” he grunted.

She looked him up and down in silence and Shoyo felt like exploding any second. What was her problem?

Then she slowly closed the door behind her, the handle clicking shut as she leaned against the door. Her eyes were on his towel. The towel Shoyo was holding over his stomach rather than his chest, the place he was the most unconscious about.

“What?” Shoyo finally snapped when something close to a goddamn minute or something had passed.

“If I’m wrong you’re gonna be so mad,” she started, taking out her toothbrush and seemingly swallowing the toothpaste. Shoyo was pretty certain you weren't supposed to do that.

“But… you’ve gained a lot of weight, haven’t you?” she finally asked and Shoyo felt himself deflate.

“Uh, y-yeah a little,” he said, feeling beyond relieved.

“And that’s why you haven’t planned to play in Norway, right?” she asked, one hand on her hip, the other pointing with her toothbrush.

“I mean, I might still play- So what if I’ve gotten a little fat- chubby I mean. I’m not overweight, I just, uh, you know. Put on a little, so what?” Shoyo tried and wished she would just leave. Damn nosy younger siblings.

She nodded slowly, like she wasn’t buying it.

“So you’re not pregnant or anything?”

Shoyo choked on nothing and started violently coughing. By the door Natsu stared at him with eyes similar to one of her cats, ready to pounce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So while I hate to do it I'm probably stretching the rules of abroad migration a bit here. I'm not exactly well educated on Norwegian immigration laws so instead I'm mostly going by Swedish rules since we're neighbors anyway. But Schweiz and Japan are the two countries always granted extra privileges along with the EU. Aka you can usually travel and work back and forth without a visa. Nonetheless if you study immigration politics and notice anything that's outwardly wrong please let me know. As usual I strive for it to be _r e a l i s t i c c_


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m European so I refuse to call football anything else than football because it’s a sport you play _with your foot_ and if you think otherwise fight me

Natsu put one hand on her hip, waiting while Shoyo tried clearing his throat. He stared at his sister in shock, towel still half-covering him where he sat.

“What?” he finally got out, voice rough.

“Please just tell me if you are,” she instantly replied, her words hurried. “I promise I won’t tell mom.”

“You- what? Where did you even get that idea from?” Shoyo asked, moving nervously on the bed. “That’s crazy.”

“Shoyo,” she pleaded, her toothbrush starting to look like a weapon, ready to maim if Shoyo kept the act up. There was something in her eyes too, an intensity that wasn’t anger or disappointment. It almost looked like sorrow.

He paused, glancing away from her towards the floor. What would the repercussions of her knowing be? There was definitely a part of him that wanted to let her know, to be able to tell a family member and hopefully get support. He frowned, a pained expression on his face.

“Shoyo,” she begged in a whisper.

Closing his eyes with a frustrated sigh Shoyo leaned back a bit on the bed. “You can’t tell mom,” he finally replied.

“Holy shit,” Natsu gasped, a breathy laugh leaving her lips.

She walked up to him and he leaned away from her, suspicious of her reaching hands.

“What, can’t I see? Come on,” she said, a flash of hurt passing over her face.

“No, you-your nails are too long,” he tried making up on the spot. She clearly didn’t look impressed at that, crossing her arms.

“My nails are short. I play basketball you ass,” she deadpanned and Shoyo pursed his lips.

Shoyo made a split-second decision and got to his feet, telling himself to ignore her presence as he got dressed. After fetching his t-shirt he dropped the towel on the chair and put his clothes on, back still to her. The other hoodie he had brought was a bit thinner but also oversized. Still ignoring his sister, a frown on his face, he glanced at the mirror, making sure he wasn’t showing. It looked fine to him, still just a small bump.

 _‘It’s only noticeable when you’re naked,’_ Tobio had said. While his boyfriend wasn’t exactly the most observant person Shoyo had to believe it too, in order to even relax around people who didn’t know.

A group he supposed Natsu wasn’t part of any longer. When he turned around her mouth was slightly open, seemingly without her knowledge until she spoke again. “Uh- wow, how-how far along are you?”

He absently realized it was rare for her to be speechless, his sister usually a control-freak.

“Thirteen weeks,” Shoyo said, walking back to sit down beside her. She kept her space, her eyes instead on his face.

“I didn’t know you could…”

“Neither did I,” Shoyo admitted. “Nor did Tobio. It… it hasn’t been an easy time since we found out. To put it mildly.”

Natsu’s hand fell on his, her fingers tying with his. He met her eyes again and she tried for a comforting smile.

Shoyo sighed and grabbed her hand, lifting his hoodie and bringing her hand to his stomach. Her eyes fell on the hoodie, now hiding their hands, only the t-shirts fabric between her palm and his skin.

They sat in silence for a moment, her fingers barely moving.

“But you’re keeping it?”

“Yes,” Shoyo replied and he felt no hesitation, proud there was no wavering of his voice or pausing in his reply.

“That’s so insane,” she said, just as honest as ever. Shoyo felt the corner of his mouth tug.

“You could say that.”

Shoyo slowly fell back to the bed, legs still hanging off the edge. Natsu soon followed, lying beside him, hand still placed on his stomach. She wasn’t pushing it or moving it around, only keeping it there. Perhaps she was expecting a kick. Shoyo wondered if he should tell her that wouldn’t happen until many more weeks.

He looked over her shoulder at his old bookcase, still holding most of his memorabilia he had left behind. Most of it was manga books and trinkets, like the little handmade amber tree he’d gotten from his grandparents. There were a few of the volleyball medals he hadn’t brought with him to Tokyo, two also won in football when he’d played with his friends in elementary school. One of his first volleyballs was there too, balanced on a stack of magazines.

Shoyo remembered a late high school night when he and Tobio had hid in his room, the lights turned off in case his parents were walking in the hallway. They had sat on the floor under Shoyo’s bookshelf because the light from his window would reach them there. It hadn’t been their first kiss, that was back at Tobio’s house after the graduation party.

But they were still new. Still stepping around each other carefully, curious but cautious. Shoyo recalled how he had been so amazed at the beauty of Tobio, something the other was completely oblivious too. He had kissed him, and even though it wasn’t the first time his heart had been racing. They had been eager and enthusiastic, enough for Shoyo to push Tobio back against the bookcase to kiss him better, to kiss him deeper only for the volleyball to rock from their moving around and fall on their heads. Shoyo had split his lip from the force.

“Is that why you’re moving?” Natsu asked, bringing Shoyo back to the present, breaking the silence of the room.

He looked at her cheeks, splattered with freckles just like his, her eyelids slightly dark from a bad job at removing her makeup. Since when had she started using makeup anyway? He couldn’t really remember.

“It’s part of it,” Shoyo answered.

“Why though? What’s there that’s not here?” she frowned, moving her hand from his stomach to grab his hand again.

“No one we really know,” Shoyo began, because it was the thing he longed for the most; He wanted to hold Tobio’s hand. Blame him for being simple minded but it was one of his biggest wishes. “And the laws there are a bit more developed. There’s not as much prejudice.”

Natsu wore a pained expression, and even for how many times they fought or disagreed Shoyo never liked seeing her sad.

“But for the most part it’s genuinely a great experience for Tobio, and me too. I love traveling, Rio was great and even just Australia. It won’t be forever, Natto,” he attempted with a smile.

She rolled her eyes at the nickname and sighed. “You’re gonna have to tell mom though.”

“You promised you wouldn’t,” he quickly pointed out.

“And I’ll keep it,” she added. “But it’s not fair to her. I mean there are complications with expecting too, right? What if something bad happens? To you I mean.”

Shoyo shrugged. “I could get hit by a car tomorrow, what’s the difference?”

Natsu rubbed the bridge of her nose hard enough to leave a red mark afterwards, Shoyo slightly amused by her frustration.

“I will tell her,” he promised with a resolute sigh, “just not now. I mean, there’s a chance something can go wrong with Littl- with the baby too and I-while I’m okay with it now I won’t exactly be trying for a second one. Fuck that.”

Natsu snickered. “How could you not have known you could get knocked up? I bet you secretly really, _really_ wanted a baby and decided to trick the gullible Kageyama. You probably told him it’s safe to do it bareba-”

“Stop,” he demanded, placing his palm on her lips as she laughed against his hand. “I don’t want to hear those words from you,” he insisted, even though he had a smile on his face, “You’re forever ten years old in my mind. All you talk about are mermaids and random ocean facts.”

“Did you know that the dolphin peni-”

“Alright,” Shoyo sat up as his sister fell into laughter once more. By knowing his sister well he could tell the laughter was also caused by her wanting to get rid of some of the nerves. She was probably relieved to be talking about something else. It was a heavy topic and while Shoyo had the last few weeks to get ready and accept what was happening she had presumably only known for a couple minutes.

When he picked up his phone again Natsu came around to his front, thankfully still shorter than him, and reached around for a hug. Shoyo gently accepted it, holding her close for a minute.

For not the first time Shoyo reminded himself to be glad he was the one going through this. He would never wish his messy life upon her, and if one of them had to go through with it he’d always take it. Not that it made much sense to think that way about the current situation, but somehow he still took comfort in it; that it was always him and not her.

***-***-***

Tobio and his mother turned up that evening for dinner, just like Shoyo had suspected they would because of his mother’s “secret” planning.

Dinner was genuinely nice though; a large feast consisting of dishes such as grilled cod and sauteed shrimp. Shoyo was especially fond of the mushrooms, something he hadn’t liked much before. Either he was finally growing up or it was Little V affecting him.

While Tobio was usually stiff around people he didn’t know too well he seemed relaxed around the small gathering. It wasn’t as if he was embarrassed or nervous but rather just uncertain on how to adapt to specific groups of people. Shoyo gently elbowed him several times during dinner just to bring his attention to him, to smile at him and remind him they were here, having a departure dinner with their respective families. It was a little intense to think about. He almost felt like they were going off to war or something by the way everyone was speaking.

“And we were thinking about expanding to Fukushima, depending on the index for the next couple of months,” his father explained, Tobio’s mother nodding. It was clear the two of them got along well because of business talk. Shoyo picked up some chicken, turning back to his own mother insisting that Tobio buy a water and dirt repellent spray for the snowy climate. He was eagerly nodding, listening to her with utmost attention.

“I think this calls for something special,” Shoyo’s father declared in the middle of the course, standing up and leaving the dining room. His mom smiled expectantly at her son and soon his father returned, holding up a rectangular wooden box with kanji burned into the side.

“I bought this back at Osaka, on my last trip,” he declared, opening the box and taking out a beautiful bottle of saké. “A nihonshu for a special occasion, to bring luck and prosperity.”

Tobio’s mother applauded while Shoyo’s got up to fetch the “fancy” glasses.

Shoyo grinned in reply to his father while he inwardly realized he wouldn’t be able to take part. _‘Fuck.’_

While his father was busy pouring their glasses Shoyo tried to discreetly let him know he didn’t want one.

“Nonsense son, just a small glass is good for the virtue.”

“No, dad, I really shouldn’t. I’ll cheer with you but I’ll just get the soda,” Shoyo insisted, realizing the whole table was listening to them by now. Damn it.

His father’s look of surprise and slight hurt made Shoyo’s chest ache slightly but he pushed through. “I’m sorry but I-”

“It’s because of the medicine, right?” Natsu whispered but because she was across the table and it had simultaneously also gotten silent everyone heard her. Then Shoyo realized she had done it on purpose. He gave her a sheepish smile and nodded.

“I’ll take the one for Shoyo,” Tobio exclaimed, holding up two glasses. Shoyo’s father instantly lit up and poured both of them. To his credit it looked like really good saké and Shoyo felt a twinge of jealousy.

“Cheers, for our sons. May they take the world with storm, just as they have done here, and across the globe. Shoyo and Tobio, we’re all proud!” he exclaimed, holding his glass up. The speech was pretty lame and most of the people around the table giggled before raising their glasses. Shoyo absently sipped his soda with a childish smile, more interested in watching Tobio throwing back two shots one after the other. When he was done he pulled Shoyo close only to press a quick kiss to his lips.

Sitting back a little startled, surprised he would do so in front of their family, Shoyo felt his neck flush while Natsu cheered loudly. Their parents didn’t seem affected either, going back to their discussions of what they knew about the faraway place called Norway.

Shoyo watched his mother speak, her laugh lines prominent as she smiled, her eyes full of pride when she watched Natsu talk about her studies. She caught his stare and looked across the table to smile at him.

He wanted so desperately to just ask her, how it had been as a mother. What he should be expecting. _Is it always this scary? Do you ever feel ready? Did you feel ready when you had me all those years ago?_

Outside the house their voices could be heard at every loud cheer, the warm lights from the kitchen reaching outside into the darkness of his family home.

***-***-***

Week fourteen and fifteen went by in a whirlwind, Shoyo constantly busy packing and planning and when he wasn’t doing check ups or exercising he was practicing English and reading about customs of their new country. They had received most of the papers necessary before their departure and Shoyo’s flight was coming up first.

The couch was settled, Shoyo ticked off his list. It felt weird bringing so few clothes but he would ultimately not be able to wear a lot of them anyway. Summer clothes were unnecessary since they wouldn't be used until several months and it would take long before he could wear his jeans again. About 5 months, he calculated.

His parents hadn’t questioned him when he sent two full IKEA bags of clothes with the moving truck already going to them. He supposed it made sense that he couldn’t bring too much abroad.

Tobio didn’t bring much more than him either, and not only because he wasn’t interested in clothes. He was the sort of person who wore things until they ripped or got worn out and then he bought new stuff. A simple man, that one.

“What about the dumbbells?” Tobio asked as he appeared into the bedroom entrance, his boyfriend sitting on the floor.

“They’ll weigh down the bags,” Shoyo pointed out. It was a new set and everything but there had to be a few sacrifices. And it wasn’t like they were throwing it away, just leaving it behind for now.

“Alright,” Tobio said but he looked at his pink one with an odd kind of longing in his eyes.

“Alright, what about this,” Shoyo proposed, “if there’s space left when we’re done packing and the weight isn’t exceeded, we can bring them.”

“Sounds good,” Tobio agreed, setting it down on the dresser.

“This does have to go though,” Shoyo said saidly as he held up the strap-on. Tobio gave him a judging look.

“Could you imagine if I put this at the top of my bag and they had to open it in the airport,” Shoyo chuckled, standing up to reach around himself and fasten it over his grey jogging pants. He could still wear some of his jeans and other pants but his joggers and shorts had definitely become more comfortable lately.

“We might be deported if that was the case,” Tobio attempted as a joke and Shoyo snickered. He walked over to grab two photographs from the dresser, one of them a picture of their Kurasuno team. Shoyo grinned at the photo before packing it in his bag, making sure to wrap clothes around it for padding.

“Do you want to order food?” he asked as he stood in the doorway, wiggling his hips side to side so the dildo hit the wall in a rhythmic beat. Tobio was only slightly distracted by his performance, still bent over his own bag.

“We still have the stew, we need to eat that.”

“I don’t want the stew,” Shoyo whined, slapping his dick even faster.

“Then eat the frozen spring rolls,” Tobio continued, looking at a flashlight he had dug out from their wardrobe, probably not realizing they had one there in the first place.

“I don’t want spring rolls either,” Shoyo pouted. Tobio turned to look at him, his stare hard enough for Shoyo to stop his weird one-man show with the strap-on.

Tobio sighed, looking like he was thinking of a third option. “If you unfreeze the chicken I could make a quick teriyaki, I guess. But I’m pretty sure we only have drumsticks.”

Shoyo grinned, going up to him and giving him a kiss. “I love you.”

“You love my food,” Tobio murmured but kissed him back nonetheless, only pouting a little.

As Shoyo got the ingredients ready he kept hitting the cupboards with his plastic boner and eventually had to give it up, throwing it with the rest of the trash. Just like other necessities they could just buy a new one in Norway after all.

***-***-***

It was the middle of the night, sometime after one o'clock and the entire apartment was dark apart from the bathroom. Shoyo was crying, holding his arms around himself as the tears just wouldn’t stop.

He was seated on the small mat, hiding his face in one of the towels, sobbing quietly.

It all felt like too much, like he wasn’t ready. The fear of being outed, of being called a woman again was crawling up his back line vines, grabbing at his chest and whispering in his ears, reminding him of ripped kindergarten skirts and bruises from picking too many fights, too many for him to handle.

_‘Shuuko is so ugly. None of the boys wants her’._

_He had sniveled, standing on the largest pile of sand, his pride of being the quickest and best at digging slowly running off his shoulders like cold water as he watched his kindergarten students point at him._

_‘She’s not even wearing the skirt like the other girls.’_

_‘I don’t want to’, Shoyo tried to argue but he could hear how his voice had become small. He had been cheering earlier, competitive and joyful that he was beating all the boys. Now the teacher stood there with her hands on her hips, sighing in disappointed as she noticed how dirty he was._

_‘Shuuko, girls shouldn’t be playing so roughly. Look at your clothes.’_

_Shoyo looked at his clothes, the sleeves of the white blouse scuffed brown from the sand, the knees of his pants wet. He looked at his winning pile of sand and then at the group of boys glaring at him._

Shoyo clenched his fingers in the towel, one of his legs kicking out against nothing in frustration. _‘Get over it,’_ one part told him. _‘It was so long ago.’_

 _‘I heard the teacher call her a freak,’_ one of them had whispered another time, a few years later. _‘That her mother wanted a son and tried to turn her into one.’_

_‘Doesn't she have a little sister in second grade though?’_

_‘Guess that child is normal,’ they giggled. Shoyo stared down at the football in his hands, bouncing it once more._

_‘Shoyo, let’s just go,’ Izumi begged and Shoyo looked up at him, bouncing the ball once more, heart beating twice its speed in his chest. He felt the same sort of adrenaline he had felt when the dropout student had dared Shoyo to steal candy from the shop last week._

_‘See, even her friends call her Shoyo,’ the girl commented, glancing over her shoulder at him. ‘Perhaps she only hangs around them because she wants the boy’s attention.’_

_‘Maybe she gives them handdjobs so they’ll hang around her,’ the other one gasped, the two falling into giggles once more._

_Shoyo bounced the ball on the ground once more before he grabbed it tightly and chucked it as hard as he could to the back of her head, screams erupting in the courtyard._

The ceiling lamp turned on with a click and suddenly Shoyo was back in his own bathroom, looking up to meet Tobio’s tired eyes.

“Hey,” he said, rubbing his eyes where he stood in only a shirt and boxers.

Shoyo sniffled, looking to the side.

“Come back to bed?” Tobio tried and Shoyo stayed put.

He heard movement before he felt his boyfriend crouch in front of him, sitting on his knees. “Shoyo.”

“I think I’m going insane,” Shoyo whispered, “I want to cut them off right fucking now,” he said, biting through the words, clenching his teeth.

“What?” Tobio asked, looking a bit more alarmed.

"These are fucking tits, Tobio. _Tits!_ I shouldn’t have tits!”

“Mhm? No, you shouldn’t,” he agreed, evidently still half asleep.

“You’re a gay man, how can you even stand me? How can you even get hard with me around? Are you- are you taking viagra?” Shoyo sobbed.

“What?” Tobio asked, frowning. “Shoyo, you’re beautiful. The most handsome man I know. I love you so much,” he said and even though it sounded automatic and not very thought through Shoyo still listened.

“Maybe I’m not supposed to be handsome,” Shoyo said against his arm, crossing them over his knees. “Maybe I’m supposed to be pretty and be a _she_ like everyone fucking wants me to. Maybe I should’ve been fixed instead of… encouraged. Because I’m always so fucking stubborn.”

“You’re stubborn, yes,” Tobio said, his hands coming to grab Shoyo’s. He tried to fight him for a second but when Tobio grabbed him tightly he didn’t have the energy to fight him off.

“The reason I’m even happy in this life is you, you idiot,” Tobio said, half-lidded eyes looking close to falling back asleep but staring at Shoyo nonetheless. “You get me so fucking hard all the time I can barely keep my hands off you at times. You know this, you’re carrying proof of that,” he added, not even having to gesture to Shoyo’s bump.

“But I-”

“No,” Tobio quickly interrupted. “No arguing. Stop trying to convince yourself otherwise, I know _you_ know deep down you’re spouting nonsense. I love you so much and I question how I could end up with such a person like you every day. I see you and I think _Man, I get to pick this wildflower in a field of regular roses and daisies and those yellow flowers_ \- I can’t remember what they’re called. I’m in awe everyday because I get to call you mine. I’m so proud, often even worried that I’m too stupid and boring for someone like you, someone so free and vicious,” Tobio blabbered and Shoyo felt himself tear up again.

“But if I hadn’t been around you would have found a tall m-man who-”

“No, I don’t want anyone else,” Tobio insisted. “Get it through your thick head that I’d do anything to stay with you. While I hate it you can complain about yourself how much you want but do not tell me what I want, because if you think I don’t want you then you’re an idiot.”

Shoyo stared at the floor, swallowing around nothing.

“Idiot Hinata,” Tobio added with a hum and Shoyo sniffled.

After a deep breath Shoyo forced himself to speak. “Then promise me you- you will tell me if you don’t want me. Promise me you’re being honest and that if you do or will in the future, be disgusted by me, that you leave me. Even if I beg and say I can’t make it without you, promise me- Tobio, promise me,” Shoyo demanded, now his turn to grasp his boyfriend’s wrists tightly.

“Easy,” Tobio said, a relieved smile on his face. “I swear on my heart. Because it’s never going to happen.”

Shoyo dried his nose on the towel, the fear under his skin still lingering. Tobio stood up in front of him, manhandling Shoyo to his feet as well, immediately holding him close.

“Can you continue with your freakout tomorrow, please?” Tobio asked, a yawn following. “It’s the middle of the night.”

Shoyo sniffled. He hadn’t really gotten the answer he wanted, at least not the part of him currently in charge. The part that was stressed out about the fact that Tobio was wasting his time with such a fuck up of a human as himself. But then again the rest of him was telling him to go to bed. He _was_ tired.

“Okay,” he eventually replied.

He let his boyfriend drag him back to bed and tuck him in, holding him close underneath the sheets. He even let him warm his feet against his legs. In the morning Shoyo felt embarrassed and awkward but Tobio only tugged him close again, refusing to let go until Shoyo was smiling properly.

By the time he was laughing, a flush on his cheeks and his heart beating happily there was no need to continue last night’s episode or feed his midnight demons.

***-***-***

They took the bus to the nature reserve a bit outside of town. It was dark outside quite early now and they eventually had to use their flashlights to reach the spot they were looking for. It wasn’t too cold, the trail dry underneath their shoes. Shoyo giggled as he tripped over a branch, Tobio barely catching himself on a tree in time as he stumbled backwards.

But they made it, the trees opening up at the top.

They couldn’t hear anyone, seemingly alone at the secret lookout spot. Shoyo sat down on the bench, looking out at the city lights of Tokyo.

“I wonder how much has changed since we were here last time,” he asked, eyes scanning the buildings, trying to figure out which was which.

“There’s constantly construction everywhere so probably a lot,” Tobio replied.

His fingers were intertwined with Shoyo’s and even if someone happened to take the trail behind them the darkness would keep them hidden.

They sat in silence for a while, looking out towards the city. It didn’t cover all of Tokyo of course, the city was massive. Shoyo could count to eight cranes still visible at night.

“I should’ve bought a ball,” Tobio argued after a minute.

“And what? Thrown it over the edge?” Shoyo snorted.

His boyfriend shrugged. “As something to play with.”

“What, am I that boring?” Shoyo asked, raising his eyebrow.

“At times,” Tobio said, ready for the punch Shoyo aimed his way. He grinned cheekily and Shoyo only sighed dramatically. He listened for any sound around them, only hearing birds and the distant sounds of the city.

With a little determination he got up on one knee on the bench, throwing the other over Tobio’s hip. Sitting down in his lap he smiled at him, placing his hands on his shoulders, now concealing the view his boyfriend had of the city behind him.

“Now what?” Shoyo asked, absently licking his lips. “Still boring?”

“Mm, not quite,” Tobio hummed before leaning forwards.

After just a minute or two Shoyo started feeling a little hot and bothered, perhaps it was because they were doing this in public. He could feel Tobio’s body agreeing with him underneath and Shoyo inwardly cursed, teasingly biting his boyfriend’s lip before he had to get off him. He clumsily sat down beside him, taking a look behind them while Tobio adjusted himself in his pants.

They were both breathing a little heavily, Shoyo grinning at him in the dark.

“Now I really wish we would’ve stayed at home,” Tobio grunted, leaning towards Shoyo again to mouth at his neck. He kissed him there and when Shoyo’s eyes fluttered shut Tobio gently nipped him, leaning back with a smug smile.

Shoyo rolled his eyes at his stupid competetive boyfriend but still pulled him close for another kiss.

Afterwards they continued to the top of the small hill. Just like last time the lights on the football field were on and the gate unlocked. To Shoyo’s joy he found two footballs stuffed in under the small bench, taking both out and judging their level of air left. Taking the one he deemed the best he kicked it towards Tobio, running out on the field.

While Tobio was the one to watch the most football on TV, Shoyo was the one who had actually played the most. Not that it mattered much when they were just kicking balls back and forth. Shoyo tried to dribble Tobio a few times and while he mostly succeeded in tricking him in which way the ball would go he often lost it himself too, shooting it away too violently.

Nevertheless he was laughing the entire time, Tobio as usual getting his focused face on, tongue half out of his mouth in concentration.

Dirty tactics were eventually allowed and Shoyo got a good grab on his boyfriend’s ass when he tried to take the ball from him. Next it was Tobio’s turn, the taller of the two choosing to simply pick Shoyo up by his hips and hoist him out of the way. Very unsportsmanlike.

Shoyo wanted to bug him more, to play a little longer but the fear of someone showing up, someone who would recognize them and perhaps record made Shoyo eventually stop, letting Tobio get a goal in.

They took the bus back home, sitting beside each other in the back, hands hidden from the driver and the drunk teenagers in front of them. Shoyo caught Tobio’s eyes in the reflection of the window, smiling to himself when Tobio rubbed his thumb against the back of Shoyo’s hand he was holding.

***-***-***

The kitchen was silent, almost all traces of people ever having lived there gone. The fridge was empty, just like the freezer and all the cupboards wiped clean. The oven had been replaced and a new one was installed. Outside the window the rain splattered against the spot-free and recently clean windows. A large plant sat in the corner, left for the next owners to care for or throw out. The last living thing in the room.

In the living room the floor was empty, the tv gone and the wall mount hidden behind putty and paint. The carpet was gone and the wooden, recently polished floor reflected the light from the windows.

The rain also tried to get in at the ceiling window, water drops staying on the surface before sliding off and giving up. On the floor the rectangle of light showed patterns of each drop falling and then fading away to the music of the rain’s sounds.

The bedroom was also empty, the large bed neatly made and adored with new pillows that matched but hadn’t been there before. The previous owners didn’t really understand the use of decoration pillows, after all.

To them there were more important things, like the bags full of gym clothes, the photographs and medals of previous teams and victories.

It was the day before Shoyo’s departure.

They had come back after the cleaning process was done just to hand away the keys and use the printer, which had been fine by the real estate agent.

The man shook Shoyo’s hand and then Tobio’s, his portfolio with the papers and now keys under his arm, the other holding the umbrella.

“I will be on my way then,” he said, nodding to the two of them. “Have a good night, gentlemen.”

Shoyo turned towards the house and looked up at it one last time. At the dark walls, the neat lawn and the fence lining the outside. Tobio, who had been about to walk away, stopped when he noticed Shoyo lagging behind.

“Are you coming?” he asked.

Shoyo tilted his umbrella back a bit, getting some water on his hand and shoes while he gazed up at the building. Then he nodded and turned towards Tobio, passing their neighbor’s now leafless and bare rose bushes.

The subway was loud as many people were getting off work, Shoyo having to back into the opposite door as people pushed through. Tobio stayed in front of him, like a tall wall, looking deep in thought.

Shoyo was fairly sure a man a few seats over recognized them, or one of them at least because he kept looking over, pretending not to be caught.

The next stop was the supermarket in the subway station, Tobio picking out one of the premade bento boxes. Shoyo glanced at his options. Dr.Ito had recommended he stay off raw fish and he picked a box containing yakiniku spears and vegetables. There was egg roll and avocado at least.

“Do you want a dessert?” Tobio asked, glancing at the packaged sweet bread on the next shelf. ‘Made in Osaka’ it said on a sign followed by a complete 500-word history of the brand. Shoyo picked the strawberry flavored one.

The hotel was a central one. Not too expensive but still enough stars for the bed to be a real one, taking up the majority of the room. The shower and bath was clearly new but with the time they had Shoyo wouldn’t bother lounging around in there.

He sat on the bed with Tobio, the TV on behind them. The view outside was nice too, an office building taking up some of the space but the rest a view of the Asakusa area.

Shoyo picked some of the cucumbers from Tobio’s plate, offering half his egg roll in return.

On the still mostly untouched table in the room was his passport and boarding pass. He had a folder with papers concerning their trip in his bag together with a small booklet his father had bought him about Norway for Japanese tourists. At least it was just a year old, even though it looked a little dated.

They didn’t talk much. Shoyo felt like most had already been said. He was making sure he had all his essentials in his carryon bag, his two larger suitcases still untouched by the door. The clothes and shoes for tomorrow were thrown on the armchair, added to the thick jacket he would have to wear when he arrived.

Tobio appeared in the bathroom entrance, brushing his teeth. His eyes fell on Shoyo, just like he was making sure he was still there, before he returned to wash his mouth.

Shoyo turned off the TV and got up to get himself ready too.

His boyfriend would stay another night in Tokyo and then head home, stay there for ten days before it was time to sign the documents for the league. On the twelfth he would travel in the afternoon and reach Shoyo by the following day.

Shoyo absently listened to the sound of a police vehicle somewhere outside their window, proof they weren’t the only ones in the world, even if it felt a little bit like it at the time.

When Tobio pushed inside him that night it somehow felt more intense than usual. Perhaps because it had been a while. The stress of the move had kept them busy and though Shoyo had briefly thrown out a comment that morning about how they shouldn’t have goodbye sex, he didn’t want much else than that right now.

The linen were still a bit cold and Shoyo shivered, hands holding onto Tobio’s arms as he thrust into him slowly but deeper with each go.

Shoyo didn’t close his eyes, instead watched Tobio through most of it. He felt how his muscles tensed when he put his weight on his arms, leaning forwards and breathing against Shoyo’s forehead and hair.

Inhaling deeply Shoyo reveled in the feeling of his cock, their sex always good but not always as emotional as now. He might be the culprit behind that though since he often enjoyed rough, spontaneous fucks when he needed to get some steam off. Tobio was more of a romantic in that sense, more often desiring a slow morning fuck or a late night one under the sheets.

Sometimes, after a good game Tobio would still be a bull of adrenaline and testosterone and he would throw Shoyo onto furniture not usually used for sex and ravish him.

Shoyo adored both kinds of Tobio equally. It always left him feeling complete and contempt afterwards, like he was properly filled with love and affection he felt like he couldn’t control nor contain.

Now it felt awfully raw, in the way they were timing their breaths together, Shoyo holding his palm against Tobio’s chest to see if their hearts were trying to do the same. Down beneath and half under the sheets Tobio was fucking him gently, one hand holding up Shoyo’s right leg while the other slowly circled the spot that eventually made Shoyo’s toes curl, coming earlier than expected.

Tobio didn’t ask this time, he hadn’t really since Shoyo had accepted he was expecting, not that it would change anything. This time he just sped up, his cock throbbing and his stomach tensing before he shoved in deep enough to emit a grunt from Shoyo, Tobio pressing his face against his boyfriend’s neck and coming inside him.

Raising his tired arms up Shoyo caressed his back, drawing patterns on his skin as he came down from the high.

The slick sound as he pulled out was almost like a pin dropping in the otherwise silent room and Shoyo wrinkled his nose, almost thankful when the bed groaned under Tobio moving.

They crawled underneath the now warm sheets after Shoyo had another toilet break, adorning himself against Tobio’s side. He had meant to be the big spoon but Tobio stayed on his back, looking at Shoyo. His right hand was placed over his stomach, his tumb absently caressing in small, slow circles.

“Are you scared?” Shoyo asked, breaking the silence.

Tobio merely nodded.

“Please don’t be,” he frowned.

“I don’t think I can help it,” Tobio argued, his tone gentle and honest.

“I will miss you a lot,” Shoyo said, bringing up his other hand to kiss the back of it, leaving the one on his stomach alone, “But I will be fine.”

Tobio didn’t say anything but kept watching him.

“I won’t go look for polar bears,” Shoyo promised, “and I won’t put myself in any risk. I’ll probably just stay at the apartment and maybe check out a house viewing or two.”

“No trying new, weird exotic foods,” Tobio wanted him to promise. “No swimming in the icy ocean.”

Shoyo felt a smile threaten to bloom on his face.

“I promise. But I’ll have to eat something,” he justified.

“Of course,” Tobio frowned, “You should eat a lot. But only what you recognize or what you can properly translate. And don’t try to cook complicated things, you absolutely cannot eat raw or burned things.”

“I mean, if you want me to order out everyday I’ll do that but it won’t be very economical,” Shoyo pointed out. Sure, he wasn’t the one with cooking skills in the relationship but he knew how to make a damn egg roll. It _usually_ ended up completely edible.

Tobio looked genuinely concerned and Shoyo snickered, kissing his hand once more. “I’ve got a long list of foods to avoid from Dr.Ito. I’ve almost memorized it because I whine about them constantly. You don’t need to worry,” he promised.

“I didn’t only mean for the baby, I meant you too,” Tobio pointed out.

Shoyo doubted there was that much dangerous food in Norway but nodded anyway. “Plus, I have my first visit to the practitioner on Wednesday. I’ll remember to ask her about their cuisine.”

Tobio nodded, finally looking a little calm. Shoyo suspected it was just worry about everything else that made him overreact over the small things.

“I still can’t believe Dr.Ito managed to find one who speaks Japanese in Norway,” he added, moving down on the bed and resting his head on Tobio’s shoulder.

His boyfriend hummed a short reply and Shoyo yawned. He wasn’t sure he would be able to sleep much between his stomach keeping him up and the nerves of the move across the world. Shoyo, out of the two, was definitely the one who managed to be alone the best. Even though he considered himself the most affectionate in their relationship Tobio usually grew stressed being alone and away from Shoyo.

“You sure you don’t want me to come with?” Tobio asked, waking Shoyo who realized he had been about to fall asleep. “I could fly back for the stupid contract.”

Shoyo gently patted Tobio’s chest. “It’s okay, baby. It’s just two weeks.”

Tobio was silent above him and even though Shoyo felt himself falling back asleep he didn’t want his boyfriend to worry the entire night. Just when he was about to ask him he felt lips press against the top of his head along with a whisper of “Okay.”

***-***-***

The sun had yet to greet them, the hotel room feeling clinical with the ceiling lamp as the only light source as they got ready. Tokyo was mostly warm, some of the late summer heat apparently sticking around. Oslo wouldn't be the same nor would the airplane trip be so Shoyo got into his jacket so he would have it handy. He wore his hat too, the beanie a brand one Tobio had bought him for his trip.

They decided to eat at the airport instead of the hotel and Shoyo didn’t have to convince Tobio to sit with him in the back of the taxi. They were still tired, the driver oddly energetic for the early hour.

The coffee and breakfast made Shoyo perk up a little bit more, the airport alive and awake around them. Tobio didn’t hold his hand under the table but sat pressed against him, the two shoulder to shoulder.

Shoyo had given him his goodbye kiss back at the hotel.

“The check in for flight QR183 to Doha is now open,” the voice in the speakers eventually called out and Shoyo stayed sitting with Tobio, watching the line get fewer and fewer. He had already checked in via the automatic screens at the entrance, now having to keep an eye on the terminal for security.

Eventually the info popped up and Shoyo released a deep sigh.

They had chosen a relatively hidden booth but Shoyo wasn’t about to be daring when they’d been so careful up to this point. Yet he still leaned into him, a hug usually platonic enough.

“I’ll see you in Oslo,” he said and Tobio’s exhale sounded shaky. He begged that his boyfriend wouldn't be crying when he sat back and thankfully he was correct. Tobio looked awful though.

“And I’ll text you when I’ve made it to Doha,” he added as he stood up, getting his things ready. He had his backpack, passport and boarding pass in his pocket along with his phone, charger and wallet. He had already dropped both four-wheel suitcases off at the bag drop, having pre-paid for bringing more than one. He really hoped they wouldn’t mess up the bags since it contained a large portion of his life, not just tourist clothes. It was essentially his life in two bags, even if most of it was clothes. The rest now waited for him back at his parents house in Sendai.

Shoyo waved to Tobio when he stood in line for security, the metal scan not noticing anything odd. He had checked beforehand if his condition would be a problem but apparently you only had to declare a present pregnancy after seven months. Little V would be at four and a half today, if the ultrasounds were accurate to the day, that was.

He had tried going back to figure out if he and Tobio had done anything special that day only to realize they just had a lot of sex in general.

 _‘Rather too much than too little,’_ Tobio had reasoned.

When Shoyo turned the corner towards the boarding gate he got his last sight of Tobio and the sting he felt in his chest surprised him. Shoyo had to clear his throat and dug out his headphones to distract himself.

***-***-***

 _How did it go,_ Tobio texted.

 _I’m still in Tokyo,_ Shoyo replied.

He was currently sitting in the aircraft, the large plane having ten seats per row, three to each side. Since he hadn’t booked early enough he hadn’t gotten a window-seat but Shoyo checked that his media screen worked and felt pleased enough. There were a few horror movies available that he and Tobio hadn’t watched yet but he was not about to watch them alone now.

Instead he swiped to the action section and sure, he had seen most of them but he wouldn’t mind re-watching the speedy car movies, no matter how ridiculous Tobio thought they were.

 _When will you leave,_ he then got back.

Shoyo glanced at the screens in the ceiling which still retained the same departing time. No delays apparently.

_06:15 still. I’ll have to turn off my phone soon._

_I love you._

Shoyo bit his lip. _I love you too. Now stop worrying and go to the gym if you won’t be able to go back to sleep._

_Ok. I will go to the gym._

Two women in business suits took the seats next to Shoyo in the middle row, the seat between Shoyo and the taller woman free. When the plane stopped filling with people Shoyo supposed he was lucky to get both armrests for himself.

 _Good_ , he replied to Tobio.

_Talk to you later. I love you._

_You’re worse than my mother at times, Tobio._

_I’ll give you a clay figure for Christmas._

Shoyo laughed inwardly, putting his phone in flight mode when the flight attendant asked for it. He noticed some people still on their phones but he quickly busied himself with the movie.

The flight to Doha was a full 12 hours and a small breakfast was served soon after departure. When lunch was around the corner a flight attendant had to wake Shoyo for him to make the option. He blinked at the small menu, now sure what halal meant. There was a short description at the bottom about religion or something. Shoyo wondered if it was something ceremonial so he opted for the vegetarian dish instead. Portobello mushrooms were always tasty anyway.

***-***-***

The Doha airport in Qatar was massive.

Shoyo had been struggling a little with his bag drop since he had to grab both massive cases himself. He had stumbled into a child standing too close to the converter belt but the child’s mother had insisted it was her son’s fault for standing too close, scolding him the next second while Shoyo’s japanese instincts kicked in and he apologized nonetheless.

As soon as he was out in the big hall of the airport he sent a picture to Tobio. He had no clue why there was a massive teddy bear halfway fused with a desk lamp sitting in the middle but took a selfie with it anyway and sent that too. He looked a little puffy from his flight and suspected his boyfriend would comment on it.

He had a couple of hours before his flight to Oslo and decided to browse a little bit. It was incredibly tempting to buy the oversized and tax free packets of chocolate or even the celebratory, cheap alcohols. He treated himself to a fancy box of something called baklava. It looked like cookies. Shoyo honestly just liked the packaging a lot.

He was already getting into the habit of speaking English again but he stumbled over certain words, not completely understanding that the cashier wanted to see his boarding pass before he could buy the cookies.

The airplane food had been surprisingly good but he was hungry enough to get a sandwich at a recognizable food chain. He knew it wouldn’t take long before he started missing japanese cuisine but a simple sandwich was always good.

When he had left his suitcases for their second bag drop he sat down on a bench outside a Gucci store, watching rich and poor passengers enter. He played a game of trying to guess who would and wouldn’t buy something after the person had finished their browsing. It was pretty clear though that only a small percentage actually bought anything. Perhaps it was because of the scary clerk though. Her red lipstick and too light makeup shade made her look like a clown in the intense spotlights of the store, especially when she smiled really wide.

Since the second flight was by the same airline Shoyo saw the halal option once again. He chose the fish this time. Hamburger sounded tasty but he still wasn’t too convinced he understood why people would need to cut the neck of an animal to eat it. He vaguely remembered reading about it way back in school. Google hadn’t helped him much more than give him several news articles on the matter. It was evidently a heavily discussed topic.

Just an hour into his second flight and Shoyo desperately wanted it to be over by now. He had thankfully not felt sick yet and apart from having to visit the bathroom annoyingly often he felt fine. Most people had gotten ready to sleep since they would arrive early morning, the lights turned down in the airplane.

His second seatmate was a loudly snoring, presumably Norwegian man. He had curly blonde hair and smelled suspiciously of whisky. His wife beside him was reading what looked like a romance novel, still wearing her sundress.

Had Shoyo read the temperature wrong? It said Oslo would be about 4°.

***-***-***

In the end Shoyo hadn’t managed to sleep but instead gotten through a complete series of movies about a little teddy bear living in London who wore a raincoat and red hat, along with a documentary on why the Nordic arctic fox needed to be saved.

He also had a craving for a good marmalade sandwich now, even though Shoyo couldn't really remember if he’d ever even had marmalade in the first place. What was the difference between marmalade and jam?

Also, Oslo was 4°.

The wife of his seat-companion had put on an impressively long coat she marvelously procured from her carry on bag. Everyone seemed to magically procure thicker clothing from bags and overhead compartments when they landed. Shoyo started to figure out these were probably tourists having been out traveling and now returned home, most of them tan and looking pleasantly exhausted.

Then there were a few people possibly flying to Oslo for work, dressed in suits and not wearing warm enough jackets in comparison to the large group of chinese tourists in the front of the plane who were already eager with their cameras and comically large down jackets.

Oslo was _definitely_ cold and Shoyo was impatient to get into the bus that would take them into town. The sun had started to greet them above the edge of the forest that seemed to be surrounding them from every direction. Even during the bus trip where Shoyo luckily got a seat by a window there seemed to be mostly fields and forests.

But there was a normal looking gas station there, a Burger King here and an ad for Coca Cola even Shoyo could read. All it said was ‘ _Tørst?’_ and Shoyo would bet it just meant ‘ _Thirsty?_ ’.

Unless they were asking about Thor, he supposed.

Nonetheless it was still clearly a normal civilization and mostly reminded him of a smaller city.

Until he reached the city, that was. The Oslo central station was full of people, certainly more than Shoyo had expected. But when he remembered it was Monday morning, presumably rush traffic for people going into work and he realized this might be the busiest it got. It certainly wasn’t anything close to Tokyo.

Most of the people on the bus scurried off in different directions, Shoyo following the majority which seemed to walk to the front of the station, at least according to the signs which were thankfully both in Norwegian and English.

He felt slightly too tired to be nervous, considering he’d pulled an all nighter. He desperately just wanted to meet up with the woman, get the keys and then head to bed. Back in Tokyo when they’d planned all this Shoyo had considered getting a hotel when he arrived in Oslo but ultimately decided against it _since he had assumed he would bloody sleep on the plane._

Well, nothing to do about that now. And there were only a few hours until he was supposed to meet up with her. He looked down at the contact in his phone. Gunilla Gren.

There seemed to be both a central subway, bus and tram system to choose from considering public transport, just like Google had said ahead of time. Shoyo supposed it was good he had plenty of time to get to the location. He didn’t have to hurry and could instead play dumb tourist as he waited by the info desk to simply ask of the best way to get to his location. His phone gave him a suggestion, of course, but Shoyo figured he might as well ask a real person.

Unsurprisingly though the man behind the counter said the same thing as his phone. On the other hand he could get Shoyo a ticket without him having to download an app or anything. Shoyo picked up a one week card for public transport, just so he could try it out first before deciding whether he liked it or not.

It was a simple card, a hashtag printed on the center, the Ruter card apparently able to get him anywhere in town. To his surprise it was much cheaper than the Suica card in Tokyo. Shoyo was also prepared with the knowledge that taxi prices were ridiculous here, so public transport was definitely preferable.

It had been written on one of the first pages of the Oslo guide book from his father.

According to his phone it would be early afternoon for Tobio since he was seven hours ahead time zone-wise. He promised him over text he would call him as soon as he was in the apartment.

***-***-***

Gunilla was a kind woman but not the best at English. Shoyo remembered last second that people abroad usually went by their first names, not last and stumbled over the name since he had only memorized Gren.

“You can name me Gun,” she had said and Shoyo was pretty sure the word choice wasn’t completely correct.

The apartment was placed right by a large park, Shoyo having managed to find his way even with his phone’s battery about to die. The tram had brought him the closest and it had certainly been an experience to hold onto his two suitcases as the train rocked over the tracks and went both up and downhill.

Gunilla had been early too as Shoyo walked up to her, presuming it was her since she stood outside of the building. She was holding a few papers in one hand, using it to cover her eyes from the sun even though she also wore sunglasses.

“So it was a long fly?” she asked as Shoyo followed her into the apartment building.

“Yes, first twelve hours to Qatar and then seven hours to Oslo,” Shoyo explained, thankful there was an elevator available.

“Oh, so long! Is it nice you are here now?” she asked, looking at him as she pulled her sunglasses up onto her head, revealing grey strands around her temples previously hidden by her colored hair.

“Yes, very nice,” Shoyo smiled, “I am very tired though.”

The apartment was very small, just like the online pictures. There was a narrow kitchen with a bar table against the opposite wall, all of which were painted white. In fact everything but the floor was white, a theme he’d seen on most real estate websites too. Another country-wide standard, he presumed.

There were several windows in the apartment however, and because of the bright weather outside it made it look more spacious. One of the two bedrooms was the most interesting part about the place, in Shoyo’s opinion. Through a door there was a room horizontally divided in two. On the top was the bed hidden, reached by a ladder. Underneath the bed was a wardrobe you could reach by moving the ladder.

“Do not fall off,” Gunilla laughed before continuing the tour. Shoyo paused, staring at the bed.

 _‘Damn it,’_ he hadn’t thought about that.

The regular bedroom was more spacious with a desk in the corner too, the window outside faced by a large maple tree of some sort. The bed was smaller than Shoyo and Tobio’s luxurious one back in Tokyo but it would still fit two people. There were two study rooms for some reason, one of them doubling as a TV room too.

Gunilla explained in broken English where the closest convenience store would be and explained more than once that they closed at eight a clock. Perhaps she was used to tourists not realizing how early things would shut down here. Shoyo had read about it in his little pocket guide too, as one of the other important things to know _before_ he would have to go pick up food, especially if he decided to take a nap.

He almost shuddered the picture of waking up hungry but having to wait until morning to eat.

Gun also explained that Shoyo would have to wash his clothes in the basement and which key led to that door. When she asked if he had any questions Shoyo couldn’t be bothered because of how tired he was. He promised to call if he had any and then she was finally out of the door.

Shoyo struggled with the lock for a couple seconds before he finally got it, just like she had shown him, and then dropped his bag on the floor. Leaving his two suitcases in the hall he quickly made it to the bed, the normal one on the floor, falling onto it after quickly discarding his jacket.

Lying still for just a minute he then rushed to the bathroom, taking care of his needs by priority. Second was removing his sports binder only to remember most windows were uncovered. Shoyo pulled on the same shirt back on once again and went to shut the curtains in the bedroom and the study next to it.

Then he plugged his phone into the charger and finally called Tobio.

***-***-***

With so many new things to take in the first week passed rather quickly.

Shoyo sat on the small couch with a cup of coffee, clad in the fluffy blanket he had found in a wardrobe, now his new favorite item. He was eating a badly shaped but well tasting egg roll as breakfast.

He had quickly realized that the supermarkets carried multiple ramen packs and it had been the majority of what he’d eaten the last few days. Probably not too nutritious but he supposed that was what the vitamin supplements were for. He definitely missed Tobio’s cooking though.

Yesterday he had tried something spontaneous and ordered a pizza with some sort of meat on it. The person in the restaurant told him it was dried reindeer meat but Shoyo doubted that. Yet, it didn’t taste great at all. Everything seemed a bit too salty for his tongue here.

The eggs had a different color too, but at least he had seen that before in Brazil too. Shoyo wasn’t educated enough to tell much of a difference in taste anyway.

He flipped over the book Signe had given him that Wednesday at their first meeting. It was about pregnancy and symptoms he might expect, the images inside of the fetus growing having Shoyo stare for minutes.

 _‘How in the world did I manage to end up here?’_ he kept wondering.

 _‘Week 20,’_ he then thought, patting his stomach. Signe had told him to expect some movement in the coming weeks and the idea still terrified him.

Signe did speak Japanese, just like Dr.Ito had said, but not fluently. There were a few words here and there she hesitated on and it was usually those that Shoyo didn’t know in English either so she had to use a translation tool once or twice. Otherwise she was really kind and genuinely funny, cracking Shoyo up several times and simultaneously washing away some of the nerves he carried on his back. It was scary being in a new place so it was nice to have someone to ask, even if it was small everyday things. She had assured him he could text if he had any questions but Shoyo felt a little rude asking her about Norwegian customs just because it wasn’t her job.

He leaned back on the couch, gazing outside the window. For such cold weather the sun was surely out a lot. It was warm where it touched but the moment it moved behind clouds Shoyo would shiver.

“What about we try that sushi restaurant today?” he asked his stomach. He had slept a lot since coming here and still hadn’t gone to any house viewings. There was one scheduled for Tuesday though and Shoyo had signed up to the viewing. Most of the information had been in Norwegian so he had to give them a call and ask instead.

With his transportation card he had checked out the arena too. The one where Tobio would play and practice was pretty similar in size to the one in Tokyo, perhaps a little older. The big arena in the center of the city called Vallhall Arena was massive and clearly new. It seemed to mostly host football games but would prepare for the big volleyball game when time got closer. There were a couple other arenas but by the time he’d visited two he felt done for the day.

Shoyo was starting to show a lot more by now too. Signe told him his stomach had yet to ‘pop’ as she called it and he could still successfully hide in jackets and hoodies, especially considering the weather outside. She also told him the reason he might be on the smaller side was because of his muscles and well-trained body. He supposed that made sense, the larger you were before the larger you would get. In his book there were many different women posing at various numbers of weeks and they all differed in size.

To his joy and surprise there was a small section at the end of the book of male pregnancies, written completely neutrally and without prejudice. It brought up some previous cases and relevant biological and medical factors. The book was published just three years ago and he suspected that little section might be a reason Signe picked it for him.

When he asked about it however she looked clueless and told him they supplied it for every expecting mother since the hospital bought it in quantity.

Shoyo wasn’t shy about getting out of the apartment though. He wasn’t about to throw money at a gym before he knew where he and Tobio would permanently live so instead he went for his jogging routes. Signe had helped him to find online where tracks and such went and at the public library he had gotten a booklet on available and good tracks.

The nature was truly beautiful here. Very different to the kind he was used to, many bushes and plants he didn’t recognize. There were a lot of people out on jogs too and eventually a woman around his age stopped to talk to him when he was stretching on a bench.

“Jeg har sett deg flere ganger. Er du ny i området?” she said and Shoyo didn’t understand a single word apart from _Jeg_ for I.

“Uh, sorry, English?” he tried and she immediately switched.

“Oh, sorry! I just said I have seen you many times in the area. Are you new here?”

“Yeah,” Shoyo smiled, starting to recognize the Norwegian accent by now. “I just moved here a couple days ago.”

“Oh that’s recent! We seem to do a lot of the same trails. You wanna jog together today? I’m also new to Sandaker.”

Shoyo recognized that word, it was written on his address. The area he assumed. He felt like her greeting was an olive branch of sorts and he happily accepted.

They ended up jogging together during some of the days when they met up by chance. Jogging Woman was a single mom with twins and a job as a bartender. She talked a lot about skiing which she apparently looked forward to most of the year. Shoyo was also informed that the sport he considered skiing, as in going down hill on skis or snowboard, was called _slalåm_ here. Skiing to them meant the cross country sport, which he had never tried. He had a vague memory of standing on a snowboard with his classmates in grade school but more than that he didn’t know.

If he had the chance Shoyo definitely wanted to try it. Especially to see Tobio trip over himself to try and beat Shoyo to the finish line.

It didn’t take Jogging Woman long before she asked Shoyo if he was pregnant though. He couldn’t exactly deny it since his bump was more visible with his thinner running clothes. He then, almost as expected, had to correct her when she congratulated him on being a mother. He didn’t like the word but he also found it in himself that he didn’t mind it as much as being called a girl or woman. But he also felt like he could be straight with her, or at least try it.

She seemed a little sceptical at first, almost like she thought he was joking but still went with it.

When he eventually mentioned the word _transgender_ she seemed to completely change her approach, immediately apologizing. She tried to tell him it was rare to see it here, which Shoyo thought was complete horseshit. It just wasn’t noticeable. When he wasn’t carrying around a bloody child he just looked like any other man. It wasn’t like he was stamped with the words trans on his forehead. There were transgender people everywhere, they just weren’t branding themselves with it.

He almost wanted to rant this at Jogging Woman but stopped himself as he realized he would just sound like her when she talked about the single-mom situation and the discrimination she apparently had to face.

He didn’t shy away from saying his partner was a man though, but that didn’t seem to surprise her nearly as much. She started talking about how she had a crush on Angelina Jolie growing up and Shoyo started wondering if he’d ended up on a new planet instead of another country.

The people at the sushi restaurant weren’t Japanese but rather Thai and didn’t speak English but only Norwegian, so ordering was a little awkward. The katsudon was very tasty nonetheless and Shoyo picked up a few dishes from them the following days too.

In between fast food and jogging it was slowly getting closer to the day Tobio would arrive.

“But are you wearing the dark blue or light blue one?” Shoyo asked, lying on the bed with his new favorite local snack. He had no fucking clue what _rotfruktschips_ meant but there were carrots, sweetpotatoes and beets printed on the bag and the chips had the consistency of regular potato chips, so presumably something like that. Signe had told him to eat more vegetables and Shoyo tried telling himself that this counted.

“The dark blue one,” Tobio said over the speaker phone. “But it’s a little small.”

“Have your pecs grown too?” Shoyo snorted, turning onto his side. There would be crumbs all over the bed but he had already gotten this far. There was nothing like making something dirtier, he decided.

“I’m not going to answer that,” Tobio hummed, “it’s a trick question. So I chose Pass.”

“That’s the correct answer,” Shoyo snickered, then he paused in his chewing. “No matter how good Ushijima looks in a suit I will not forgive you if you cheat on me, just so you know. It would make this Norway trip very awkward.”

There was a rustle of fabric over the line before Tobio replied. “... You think Ushijima looks good?”

Shoyo wanted to hang up, but that would definitely be more suspicious.

“No… but I know he’s popular,” Shoyo attempted, “A tall, good looking guy. A nice fella. Very tall. Thick arms-”

“Alright, why have you never told me this before?” Tobio asked and he started sounding a little grumpy.

“Because I don’t like him!” Shoyo promised, his pitch a lot higher than usual, “ _But_ ,” he added, dragging out the word, “If you didn’t date me he might be someone… you would maybe be interested in? Right?”

Tobio groaned on the other end, Shoyo holding in his laughter. “Can you stop implying I want someone else than you. Especially this mysterious, always _tall_ man you keep talking about.”

“Maybe it’s internalized and I just think I’m lacking in height,” Shoyo muttered with a realization.

“Maybe I like short guys,” Tobio argued, his voice again lighter. “Maybe I like guys I can bend down to kiss and possibly pick up, when they let me.”

“Maybe you sound really gay right now,” Shoyo replied, shoving another fist of chips in his mouth.

“Maybe I am really gay for you.”

“Maybe you’re so gay it cancels itself out, and that’s why you love pussy so much.”

“Alright, I’m hanging up,” Tobio sighed while Shoyo started laughing at himself and his own jokes, rolling over on the bed.

“Have fun at the party,” Shoyo added between giggles before his boyfriend hung up, “and don’t cheat on me!”

“...If one of them admits to having a pussy I might,” Tobio said and with that he hung up.

Shoyo gasped and stared at his phone.

At the end of the night he thought it was pretty funny. Especially the part where Tobio called him back two minutes later to apologize and promise he would never do such a thing, even if he found out one of his team members had one, but promised he’d already seen everyone’s dick in the showers several times.

Shoyo grinned through the entire apology speech and even though it was incredibly funny his heart only beat faster because of the love he felt for the other man. He wanted to tell Tobio to hurry and get over here, to just do whatever so he could come to him, but he also didn’t want to stress him more than necessary. So instead he whispered for him to, once more, have fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is 3k longer than I usually make them but i thought all the moving stuff might be a bit boring for those only here for kagehina so i left it a little longer shhh dont tell anyone
> 
> Also, a little AN for those interested; I looked for a few posts about what words ftm people use for their genitals and while it was pretty different for everyone I saw this one comment about empowerment, and how some guys use the word pussy as an empowering term, that it made them feel sexy and sort of in charge of the word? Some other men had what they called bottom dysphoria and didn’t like it nor the word vag because to them it was connected to female anatomy. But I like the idea of Sho taking charge of the meaning of a word, especially one that isn’t actually a medical term, just a slang for a hole, especially considering it’s a word he probably didn’t use or hear too much before he started transitioning with hormones. So using the word enough times with the connection he's made for it, ie it's his male genitalia _because he's a male_ , would make the meaning true for him. I’ve used the word before in this story but I thought I’d bring it up anyway, because I found it 𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂 𝓬𝓸𝓸𝓵.


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